Legends of Animaria
by WhiteZeo
Summary: The kingdom of Animaria in its prime, 3000 years ago. (Part Four added! Is Animus' love enough for Opaline, or will Vanault possess her? Merrick goes on his Hunt, still with doubts.)
1. LoA: The Wolves' Downfall I

Disclaimer: I miss times when I could say that Saban owned the Power Rangers. Now, I must say that Buena Vista Entertainment owns them. *sniffle*Oh, those were the good days… Actually, BE owns like two – maybe three – characters; I own the rest. *grin* So no stealing unless you ask! ^_^ 'Course if you asked, it wouldn't be stealing. :)

Author's Note: The fic – "Legends of Animaria" – is currently my baby. I plan on it spanning about a fifteen-year time period in the times "three-thousand years ago" (to quote Merrick) when Animaria was still a thriving kingdom. As this started with the idea of a past Merrick/Shayla fic, it will end on that note; the beginning parts will be a lot of fleshed out history and such, traveling through the lives of the princess and her protector.

I – Feast of the Wolfzord

A bustling city loomed in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, surrounded by never-ending fields of green that were divided by streams and rivers of blue. Little villages littered these lush fields and if one looked far enough into the horizon, a chain of cascading mountains could be seen, their peaks barely dusted with snow. 

A grand castle rose up from within the lively city, reaching for the sky as its towers brushed against the clouds. Ornate carvings in the marble outer walls of the building told the story of the creation of the castle and the yawning double doors told the story of the kingdom of Animaria. 

The celebrated kingdom of Animaria. 

Where humans lived in peace for many millennia, under the protection of the Wildzords - the sacred animal protectors of the kingdom. These animals that took the responsibility of watching over those beneath them, were worshipped, but hardly ever seen, like the fabled Greek gods and goddesses. However, these animals weren't higher beings, they were simply guardians. 

Guardians sworn to protect Animaria from outside harm. 

However, they could not protect the land from herself - no matter how hard they would try. 

***

The clang of metal rang throughout the grassy courtyard of Castle of Tribute, drifting with the cool autumn breeze through the window and into the room where the young princess was momentarily residing. 

The sound broke the child from her studious stare locked on her teacher's lesson and almost instantly her mind shifted into other, more intriguing, thoughts. Her deep brown eyes relocated themselves to gaze out the window at the clear blue sky. 

"Princess..." The voice barely reached her hearing, and even then, she didn't answer, so overwhelmed by the outside world in that moment. 

"Princess..." The feminine voice drew closer in her mind, but still, she refused to answer. 

"SHAYLA!" 

Startled, the princess of seven years jumped in her seat, her white dress flouncing about her. Quickly, she looked to the annoyed teacher before her. "Yes, High Priestess Opaline?" she replied sweetly, her attention redirected. 

The beautiful Opaline walked over from where she had been standing to sit beside the princess, her forest green cloak draping itself across the back of the chaise. "Would you care to recite what I just said?" the older woman asked with a knowing grin, peering into her student's face curiously. 

The child blushed slightly, ducking her head. "I could never dare to repeat any of the words that flow from your delicate lips, High Priestess. Your grace and intelligence could never be equaled." 

The chestnut-haired woman simply smirked at the smooth way her student easily saved herself from a scolding. "You cannot match my grace because you don't try," she teased lightly, leaning in toward Princess Shayla and poking her gently. The girl giggled and leapt off the chaise onto her feet. Opaline shook her head. "You have much to learn, Princess." 

Shayla grinned widely, her little hands set upon her hips. "You worry too much, High Priestess. I have all the time in the world!" she insisted, sounding much wiser than her seven years. "I will never leave my Clan." 

Opaline watched as the princess of the Animarian royal family swirled and spiraled around the study gaily, appearing to dance to a song that only she could hear. The young one's innocence was one that Opaline envied everyday, and yet, it was what endeared her the most to Opaline. She had no idea of what destiny held for her. Life was simple and would last forever. 

After awhile, the brown-haired princess stopped at the large window where the warmth of the afternoon sun poured into the otherwise cold room. She pressed herself against the stone ledge of the opening, her eyes entranced by the dance she saw taking place below her in the courtyard. "High Priestess, can we-" 

Princess Shayla's excited voice was cut off by Opaline's knowing one. "Yes, Princess, we can. We've finished our studies for today." She rose from the chaise with a smile as the child scampered ahead of her, out of the room and into the long hallway. "Let us go see my little wolf." 

***

"ARGH!" 

The anguished cry rose up from the courtyard as the young boy who had let it out dropped his sword once again in defeat. Throwing off his thickly threaded breastplate of hay, he fell backwards into the cool grass with a frustrated grunt. "You're cheating, General. You're bigger than me!" 

Animus chuckled, sheathing his long silver sword at his side. "Size nor strength matter, Merrick. It's a matter of swiftness and skill." The young man plopped down next to the defeated boy in the grass. Unlike his partner, Animus had no armor to remove and simply wore his usual navy blue sparring tunic and pants. "You have both of these things; I've seen you use them when you train **and** when you play with the princess!" He hid a smile as he noticed a blush lightly color Merrick's youthful features. "Now, all you have to do is apply them to your combat and you will be the greatest swordsman Animaria has known!" 

"**You** are the greatest swordsman Animaria has known, Animus." 

"That doesn't mean that you can't beat me eventually," the dark blond-haired man remarked, grinning as the boy rolled his eyes at him. "I'm not quite invincible, Merrick." 

"Laying on the grass again! You two are going to give the maidservants ten days of work with all the clothing you go through!" 

Both of them shot up from the ground to face a stern-looking Opaline with Princess Shayla at her side, trying to stifle her giggles. 

Quickly, Merrick began to brush at his clothes, removing as much of the dirt off his body as possible. Animus simply stood still and defiantly stared straight into the lady's stern glare. 

Princess Shayla's giggles soon stopped and she gasped at the young man's defiance. Merrick also caught notice of the silent war between the two adults and stopped his actions. "General! She could strike you down where you stand! Don't-" 

Just as the boy was going to warn him not to challenge Opaline, Animus did just that. "That is their job, High Priestess. I don't think they would mind a little more." His lips sported an ever-growing smirk. 

Tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders, Opaline stepped out into the courtyard and crossed it to confront the outspoken man. Frightened a bit by the prospects of what could come about, Merrick left his mentor's side and scurried over to join Princess Shayla under the stone eaves surrounding the large area. Eyes wide, both young children watched the confrontation in rapt horror. 

As soon as she was close enough to him, the serious woman bowed her head slightly and shook it, a soft laugh only Animus could hear drifting from her lips. She looked back up at him, mirth quite evident in her eyes and a smile upon her face. "You are terrible, Animus. Positively terrible." 

Briefly looking around to see if anyone was in the courtyard watching them - other than the two children who were a bit off - and finding no one, Animus grabbed the slight woman by the waist and pulled her against him. He pressed a feather soft kiss to her lips before whispering, "It's a full moon tonight. At dusk, in the Wolf Sanctuary?" 

She nodded, her face flushed with a soft pink hue. "My ritual sacrifice." 

He returned her nod, and slowly released her from his hold. She turned from him and began to walk back toward the children, but stopped and faced him. "Fool," she spat at him with a laugh, and Animus simply replied with a grin. 

As Opaline headed toward them, Merrick and Princess Shayla looked at one another and smiled. They had seen everything that had transgressed between the young Animarian general and the High Priestess of all Animaria. As children did, they found it entertaining to watch the two spar continually, dancing around one another in a far more intricate pattern than the two could imagine. 

Their innocence didn't blind them to the many taboos committed by the existence of the relationship. They knew enough of the life they were born into as a part of royal Animarian society to know what was proper and what was not. Their mentors' affair was not proper. Nonetheless, they kept the relationship to themselves for the sake of their elders' happiness. 

"Enough with the smiles," Opaline chided them as she approached, though a momentary grin alighted her features. "You both have studies to finish up before dinner is called, don't you?" 

Their heads instantly fell at the mention of work. "Must we, Mother?" Merrick pleaded, giving Opaline his pleading pup face as she usually relented to such tactics. 

"Must we, Opaline?" Princess Shayla easily echoed with a similar face. 

"Yes, you must," she enforced, herding the two inside into the castle. "It may be your seasonal recess, but you still have much to do." 

***

Dusk soon arrived and Opaline found herself running across the city barefoot in order to not be too late for the ritual sacrifice of the Wolfzord. As she darted through the crowded streets, people stopped around her and stared. It wasn't everyday that the people of Tribute got to see their high priestess running through the streets alone. 

Normally on the day of the full moon, just before dusk, two soldiers assigned by Animus would escort her to the sanctuary near the outreaches of the castle walls. However, that afternoon when the soldiers had obediently arrived to accompany her, she had dismissed them, as she had been busy with her son; she had been explaining to Merrick the importance of the celebration of the full moon by the people of Animaria and hadn't wanted them to wait for her to finish. When she was through with Merrick though, dusk had already begun. She sent Merrick away to his room, frantically dressed herself in her ritual garb and hastily ran from the castle to the sanctuary. 

Luckily, Opaline was a swift runner and when she arrived at the Wolf Sanctuary, the sun still had awhile before it would completely disappear behind the horizon. Standing outside the small stone building covered in carvings that told the story of the lone Wolfzord, the priestess tidied herself - dusting off her midnight blue cloak and pulling its hood over her head conservatively. 

She pushed the small wooden doors open to enter and was surprised to hear voices within the dimly lit sanctuary. She highly doubted Animus was talking to himself, but then again, Animus could be rather unpredictable at times. 

Opaline stepped out of the small reception area and into the main prayer chamber to find two men quietly talking among the many lit candles that formed a circular pattern on the stone floor. One of them she recognized to be Animus and the other she knew to be the high priest of the Wildzord Clan, of which she presided over. "Vanault!" she called in surprise, walking around the scattered candles to join the two men. "What an unexpected surprise! What are you doing here?" 

The men looked up from their conversation, allowing Opaline to join them. "I was here to offer myself for your ritual sacrifice tonight, High Priestess. However, when I arrived I found the General here," Vanault relayed, sounding a bit confused. 

"Yes. I was planning on using General Animus for the sacrifice this moon," she replied, finding it not hard to explain the general's appearance away. It, after all, was the truth. "I've been using you far too much as of late, Vanault. I thought you might want to rest a bit." 

"You know I would give my life for the Wildzords, High Priestess. It doesn't bother-" 

"The Wildzords know of your dedication to them, Vanault, as do I. It is not necessary to give your life to the Wildzords for them to know you love them." She smiled, clasping his shoulder. "Go now. Rest." Vanault hesitated in leaving, and Opaline noted. "Please. Enjoy the full moon tonight, my friend." 

The raven-haired man, just a few years her elder, reluctantly relented. "Goodnight, High Priestess, General." He turned to leave, tracing the path Opaline had taken to enter the chamber, backwards. 

"Goodnight, Vanault." 

"Goodnight, High Priest." 

Just as the wooden doors could be heard softly closing, Opaline approached the altar at the head of the chamber where a dark blue marble statue of the great howling Wolfzord resided. A faint ray of light shown on the platform before the altar from the small window, high up in the corner of the sanctuary, that told Opaline when the sun had finally set. A small simplistic clay bowl sat on the platform, a small dagger beside it. 

For a moment, Opaline's eyes were locked on the vividly-colored sky she could see out the window until she felt Animus' presence by her side. "Let me take your cloak," he gently whispered, trying to keep the silence as much as possible. 

Opaline simply nodded and moved her gaze over to the sacred Wolfzord, untying the cord of her cloak from her neck and letting him pull it off her. She picked up a jug from beneath the altar, and slowly tipped it toward the bowl, crimson-red wine trickling into it. 

Folding her cloak and placing it aside, Animus returned his attention to the woman. She wore a simple flowing dress, the exact same shade of blue that her cloak was. Along the hems of the neck, long sleeves, and skirt, a threaded silver pattern had been stitched. Though dressed rather plainly, Animus found himself drawn to the woman who personified beauty in his eyes. 

Once she had finished pouring the wine into the bowl, she replaced the jug and took the dagger into her hand. With expert finesse, Opaline quickly pricked her finger with the dagger and squeezed a single drop of blood into the wine. She then turned to Animus, drew him closer, and pricked his hand, only allowing one drop of his blood to enter the filled bowl. Setting the dagger aside, she moved back to stand among the candles, waiting for night to fall and the moon to rise. 

Animus joined Opaline by her side, and slipped an arm around her. She leaned into his embrace, knowing it was safe for her to show her affections because they were alone. "Is that all?" he questioned, somewhat unbelieving. "It always seemed like there was more to this since people are forbidden to watch." 

The woman grinned. "Would you want an entire crowd to watch your every movement while you ate your dinner?" 

"What are you talking about, Opaline?" 

"That's basically what this sacrifice is: Wolfzord eating his dinner." She looked up into his confused hazel eyes and chuckled. "Don't tell me that you have forgotten all that you learned in your studies about our guardians, Animus!" 

His blush was fairly evident to her, even in the semi-dark chamber. "My training was very limited in the protectors'-" 

She cut him off before he could continue to try and excuse himself. "Don't lie to me, Animus; I am the High Priestess after all." She lightly poked him in the chest. "I know that a soldier's studies incorporate a very large amount about our guardians; the soldiers are supposed to be their messengers! Doing their duty at a smaller level!" 

"Fine, then. I did forget the legend of the Wolfzord," Animus admitted in defeat. "So, refresh my memory. What does the sacrifice represent?" 

"It's all based on the legend of how the Wolfzord came to our aid," she began, her voice taking on a rich tonal quality as she prepared to do one of her favorite things: tell the stories of her beloved Wildzords. "Long ago, when we weren't one united kingdom of Animaria and our people were split into many tribes, an injured soldier from one of the warring tribes was separated from his party and lost. He wandered for days in the Wolf Forest, just barely surviving. 

"On the third day, when he had just about given up all hope and collapsed, a wolf appeared out of nowhere. This wolf was rather mangy-looking and thin; it appeared to have not had a decent kill in quite a long time. As this wolf came up to him, the soldier feared for his life, thinking that perhaps the wolf thought him to be his next meal. 

"The wolf snuffed at him, but didn't make one move to hurt the soldier in any way. It licked the man's hand and then, suddenly transformed and became the gorgeous Wolfzord. 

"The Wolfzord cared for the soldier, hunting for him and bringing him needed water until he was able enough to walk; never once did the Wolfzord eat for himself, giving everything he found to the soldier. Under the light of the full moon, the Wolfzord led the man back to his tribe and disappeared, never to be seen again. 

"The wine is our drink to him - our thanks to him for protecting us so selflessly. My blood symbolizes our people. Yours is to be the blood of the soldier. We give the Wolfzord thanks, reminding him of the kindness he paid our people long ago." 

Animus softly kissed the top of Opaline's head and held her closer. "Now, I remember that story." He smiled, closing his eyes and remembering. "That's why all the soldiers used to call Ephane the respected wolf of our pack. He would never leave any man in need, even if he was his enemy." 

Opaline smiled sadly at the mention of her departed husband's name. "He used to call Merrick his little wolf and I used to hate it; I don't think I'll understand why I did, but I did. But when Ephane passed, I missed the nickname he had for our son." Tears quietly filled her eyes, but she would not let the tears breech them. "So, I continued to call him by it. Now, Merrick doesn't even remember how his father used to call him that; he doesn't even remember Ephane..." 

The widowed woman broke down into sobs, clutching onto Animus tightly and burying her face into his soft wool tunic. He simply continued to hold her, comforting her with soothing murmurs. 

After awhile, Opaline lifted her face - eyes red-rimmed and cheeks flushed - and quickly wiped the tears from her face. "Ugh, enough of this," she muttered to herself, turning to look through the window and see that the sun had indeed completely set. She spoke to Animus, but faced the candles scattered about them. "Let's finish this ritual and then we can return to the castle for the feast." 

Animus watched as she put out all the lit prayer candles of the people who had paid their respects to the Wolfzord in the last week - according to tradition - with one wave of her hand. Magic always steadied her emotions; he knew better than anyone, as he had been with her at other times when she had her breakdowns. 

Ephane was still a sore spot in her memories - a lost love to her and a lost friend to him. Together, after his death and when Animus took up his mantle as the head Animarian general, Opaline and him had come together to mourn Ephane. They overcame the pain together and then became close friends and partners, as they worked together to train Animaria's future soldiers from boyhood into manhood. After some time, their friendship became something more, placing them in their situation as secret lovers. 

Once she completely finished, Opaline retrieved her cloak by the shadowed light that the moon let into the sanctuary and returned to his side. Reaching up a bit, she kissed him sweetly and let her hand linger for a moment on his cheek before she walked away, leaving the chamber and entering the reception room. Animus reluctantly followed, knowing what was to come once they left the Wolf Sanctuary. 

A return to the pretenses of their public lives. 

He could stand it if she could. 

***

Merrick fidgeted as he stared at himself in the full-length mirror in his mother's room. Leona, his mother's handmaiden who doubled as his nurse until he was of the age to receive a proper manservant, had been helping him get dressed for the feast that was being held. When she had left him for a moment, he had instantly run to his mother's room to get a proper look at himself. 

He wore a dark blue wool tunic, black pants and boots - similar to the ones he knew Animus would be wearing that night - which was the formal dress of Animaria's soldiers. The tunic was very regal-looking and rather soft, but it still made the young boy itch like crazy; even after being Animus' apprentice for the past two years, he had not gotten used to the uniform. 

From his neck hung a thin gold chain that carried the symbol of his family name from his father's side: Baliton. A wolf's paw with a sword on top of it was engraved on the circular piece of gold. Merrick rarely wore it, except for the full moon feasts because it had once belonged to his father and his mother always feared that he would lose it. He didn't wear a second pendant for his mother's family because she had been an orphan adopted by the Wildzord Clan at a young age; when she married Merrick's father, Opaline adopted his family name of Baliton, but seldom used it due to her rank as High Priestess. 

As he finished examining himself, the door opened and Animus walked in. "There you are!" the general voiced, joining his apprentice in front of the mirror and checking his reflection for a moment. "Leona is running down the halls in a panic looking for you, Merrick!" 

Merrick ducked his head slightly at the thought of getting in trouble with his mother later for driving Leona crazy. "Were you looking for me?" 

"Actually, I wasn't, but it certainly is a bonus that I found you," the blond man grinned, looking at the boy through his reflection in the mirror. "I was looking for your mother. I need her to draw the wolf head on my neck. I would have my manservant do it for me, but Iryn's hands get too shaky when he tries and the wolf comes out looking like drooling pup." 

Amused by the idea of the Animarian general symbolized by a drooling pup, Merrick laughed. 

"My room is not a gathering place, it is my sacred place!" Opaline yapped at the two of them as she and Princess Shayla barged into the room. 

"But your room has the big mirror!" Merrick protested, watching as his mother seated Princess Shayla before her large dresser, picked up a special blue pencil, and began to draw along the young girl's neck. 

"And I was looking for you to-" 

"-draw your wolf?" Opaline finished for Animus, while she continued to draw upon the princess. "Iryn stopped me in the hall and told me you were looking for me. Besides, I always end up drawing your wolf." 

Animus grunted in reply, just as she finished drawing the image of a lion. Giving the princess a small push, Opaline herded her son and the princess together toward the door to leave. "Now, I want you two to go and find Leona and Misia. They will take you to the Great Hall for the feast. And Shayla, don't itch at your lion!" 

Princess Shayla, who was almost about to scratch at the mark upon her neck, quickly hid her hand within the folds of her red dress. "I won't," she promised, not exactly sure if she could keep that promise. 

The two children scurried out of the room, the door closing behind them as Opaline's merry laughter emanated from within the room. They stood in the hall that bustled with incredibly busy activity: nobles and servants ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to get ready for the feast. 

"I can't believe it's like this every month," Shayla whispered to Merrick conspiratorially. 

"I just hold my breath and hope it'll be over as fast as possible," Merrick remarked, watching as one of the nobles almost ran into an open door. 

"There you two are!" Misia, Princess Shayla's handmaiden, exclaimed, running over to the two, Leona hot on her trail. "It's almost time for the feast to start!" 

Merrick cast a glance back at the door that the four of them were walking away from. "What of Mother? Won't she be late?" 

"High Priestess could never be late. She would never let herself be late," Leona stated confidently, knowing her mistress fairly well. "But if anyone **were** to keep her from arriving promptly, it would be General Animus; she must wait for the General to fetch her and escort her to the feast." 

The group continued toward the Great Hall with a descent down a flight of grand spiral stairs. Both Shayla and Merrick slid their hands along the cool silver balustrade, resisting the urge to simply climb on top of it and fly down the stairs at a much faster pace. Leona and Misia followed them, continuing their discussion. 

"Animus is a brilliant general, but tends to be rather childish," Misia commented, not at all trying to be rude, but simply stating a fact. 

"He's been likened many times to Ephane in skill, but he could never live up to Ephane's gallantry. He was a true noble, through and through." Leona brushed back a stray hair from her face, musing for a moment as they stepped off the stairs. "High Priestess Opaline was so devastated by his death." 

The conversation stopped when the four of them approached the open doorway to the Great Hall. "Go on, you two." Misia gave the children a little nudge. "Be good." 

Leaving the older women at the entrance, Princess Shayla and Merrick entered the room and the feast. 

Embedded in the wall farthest from them, a soft fire slowly burned within the large hearth, warming the expansive room that was already hot. The walls to either side of the grand fireplace held towering glass windows that were wide open to allow the cooling autumn breeze to fan over the dinner guests. Long wooden tables ran alongside each of the three walls of the hall, covered in many delicious delicacies and plates and utensils of the finest silver; kitchen servants scurried at a quick pace in efforts to get all the last finishing touches of the meal to the tables before they cooled. 

"Do you think they were telling the truth?" the Princess whispered under her breath. 

Before she could get an answer out of him, Merrick separated from Princess Shayla, joining the training regiment of soldiers gathered in a group near one of the open windows. 

A bit turned off, Princess Shayla frowned at his retreating figure joining the ranks of the rowdy group of children. "Fine, then," she scoffed, turning in the opposite direction and joining her brethren of the Wildzord Clan on the other side of the room. 

***

"Animus!" 

"Look, I'm sorry, Opaline, but you know how much that tickles!" 

The High Priestess lifted her head up from where it had been positioned near his neck while she had been drawing. Leaning back against her dresser, she shook her head at him exasperatedly. "I swear, sometimes you are a child, Animus," she chided, pressing the unsharpened end of the pencil to her lips as she mused on how she could salvage the mangled wolf on his neck. 

He grinned mischievously at the remark, and easily pulled the older woman into his lap, momentarily breaking her thoughts. "Technically, I still am a child, my lovely Opaline." He tugged her closer and stole a long kiss from her lips. 

Once the kiss ended, it took a moment for Opaline to gather herself. She poked him in the chest with her pencil, which was still in her hand. "You, General Animus, are twenty-five years of age. While you still act childish, you are not a child. You should start acting your age." Her voice was scolding, but it didn't quite have the effect she may have been looking for as her flushed cheeks and full lips made her look nothing like a disciplinarian. 

"You, High Priestess Opaline, are thirty years of age. While you may act like a respected noble, now you are sitting on my lap and kissing me. You should never act your age around me," he retorted, sweeping her into another kiss. 

The drawing pencil slipped from Opaline's fingers as her hands went to cling onto his blue tunic, stopping her from completely drowning in his kiss. Her long dark locks of wavy hair fell into his face as he held her tightly, lost completely in the sanctuary his high priestess had created especially for the two of them in that moment. 

"HIGH PREISTESS?" 

Both Opaline and Animus jumped out of their position at the voice of Leona. Opaline fell to the floor, scrambling for the discarded drawing pencil. Animus quickly rearranged his clothing to look somewhat respectable, and then helped Opaline off the floor. 

"Yes, Leona?" came the high priestess' somewhat strangled response as she resumed drawing the wolf upon the general's neck. 

Leona opened the door, and took a step into the room to check on her mistress and her escort. "King Parn is ready to begin whenever you are, High Priestess," she reported. 

"Thank you, Leona," Opaline acknowledged, slowly regaining her focus. "I will be down once I'm finished with General Animus." 

Leona nodded and turned to leave the room. 

Even after the door closed behind her, a nervous air stayed in the room with the two secret lovers. Opaline finished Animus' wolf and then easily turned the pencil on herself and drew the all too familiar shape of a deer upon the right side of her neck. Animus sat back in his chair quietly, watching her. 

Not a word was said between the both of them as Animus stood up and took her arm once she was done. They headed for the door and just before Animus could pull it open, Opaline leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I love you," she whispered softly in his ear. 

Animus simply nodded, understanding what she had meant with those three little words:_ I'm sorry we have to hide like this. Thank you for loving me. I will never leave you._ Those three words meant the world to him uttered from her lips. 

And with that, Animus pulled the door open and together, they left the room for the feast. 

***

"High Priest Vanault! So good to see you on this night!" 

Vanault turned in the direction of the voice to see a nobleman heading toward where he stood at the head of the Wildzord Clan. "Remus!" he replied to the older man quite happily. "It is good to see you as well!" 

"Where is that high priestess of ours?" Remus teased, clapping Vanault on the back. "You won't be leading the feast tonight, will you?" 

At the mere mention of his superior, Vanault paled and his demeanor fell slightly. It was the same thing over and over again from everyone: they would greet him, and then ask about High Priestess Opaline. Never was there a single concern toward his well-being. Everyone was always interested in the High Priestess. "You know the High Priestess, everything must always be perfect before she arrives." The leader of the Wildzord Clan grinned broadly, hurting his face in order to hide his anger. He glanced at the double doors, which were slowly closing. "Excuse me, Remus. But I think the High Priestess should be arriving any minute and we should be ready." 

Remus nodded as Vanault moved off to be closer to the closed wooden doors. He then focused his attention on the king, who sat in the middle of the table before the large fireplace. 

King Parn wasn't a terribly old man - he only had a little over forty years - but he carried himself with a regality that gave him the appearance of a sage man with his warm brown eyes and dark graying hair. Dressed in a tunic of royal red, he was easily discernable as the head of the Animarian royalty; his children - Shayla, among the Wildzord Clan, and Thane, among the few soldiers - were also very visible in their clothing of red. The blue lion head was fairly prominent upon each of their necks, the real symbol of their position. From the king's neck hung the gold medallion of his family, also bearing the symbol of the royal lion. 

"We gather here on this warm full moon to feast in honor..." 

The voice of the king faded from Vanualt's hearing rather quickly as he felt Opaline's presence enter the room. Looking toward the door, he saw her enter the Great Hall on Animus' arm as King Parn finished his short speech. He watched as she exchanged a glance with the king, and he sat down just as the general walked away from the priestess, leaving her to her ritual. 

She walked carefully to the middle of the room to begin her monthly storytelling. Everyone's eyes were rapt on her, anticipating the myth she would choose to share with them. Would it be the one of the brother Bearzords? Or would she share the myth of the Falconzord and the Tigerzord? 

Vanault watched her especially carefully. The beautiful lines of Opaline's face fell into a contemplative look and her eyes became distant. After a moment, a small smile brightened her features and she gazed around the room at her audience, beginning to speak. "Tonight, on this night, we shall overcome the past together with the telling of the story of the Wolfzord; a story my late husband loved dearly." 

A few gasps were emitted as surprise washed over the occupants of the Great Hall. The High Priestess hadn't told that story in over five years, since Ephane's death! The younger children didn't quite grasp the significance of the telling of the story, but the older nobles knew very well of the importance behind it; it wasn't only Ephane's favorite myth, but the first myth that Opaline told at the full moon feast upon assuming the position of high priestess over eight years ago. 

As the words slowly began to flow from her lips, everyone fell under her spell, Vanault included. He had known and loved her since childhood; from the first moment he laid eyes on her in the orphanage at the age of five. 

At their first meeting, Vanault and Opaline became fast friends and inseparable. When she was picked and taken under the tutelage of the Wildzord Clan, Vanault made sure that he was also picked. Together, they were the prized pupils of the clan and rose through the ranks rather quickly; Opaline eventually becoming High Priestess of Animaria at the young year of twenty-two with the passing of the former High Priest. 

Vanault strived to gain her love throughout the years, but all she could ever see him as was her confidant and greatest friend. She continually turned to him for advice and friendship, but never for love. When her courtship with the great General Ephane was announced, Vanault was devastated. How could she fall in love with someone who hardly knew her? Someone ten years her elder! The young man was only more crushed by the news of the their marriage. 

Vanault's eyes fell upon the young offspring of his eternal beloved and narrowed. He spited Merrick more than anything. The young boy's presence reminded him everyday of the fact that Opaline had loved someone else other than him. As much as he hated to believe it, the passing of Ephane so soon following his marriage to the beautiful Opaline lightened Vanault's heavy heart. There was still a chance for the High Priest of the Wildzord Clan to capture his childhood love's heart, especially since the five-year mourning period was finished. 

Clapping erupted from all sides of the hall as Opaline finished her tale and a small smile graced her lips. "King Parn?" She looked toward the king as the noise slowly died away. 

"Thank you, High Priestess," he acknowledged, taking his cue from the holy woman and standing up from his seat. "Now, with all the Wildzords' blessings, let us feast!" 

***

_"Do you think they were telling the truth?"_

Princess Shayla's question lingered in Merrick's thoughts as he quietly pretended to eat; he simply shifted the food around on his plate with his fork. Around him, the children of his training regiment laughed joyously and ate heartily, enjoying one another's company after having returned from their quarterly break. 

Merrick had purposely run away from Shayla after she asked her question. He didn't want to answer it. He didn't have an answer for her. 

He never knew his father. Ephane. The greatest Animarian general to ever lead. The most gallant noble to grace the halls of the Castle of Tribute. The kindest soul to ever walk the earth. Merrick heard stories - so many stories - of how wonderful his father was. People treated him well simply because of his father's reputation. 

And yet, Merrick had never heard one story about the magnificent Ephane from his own mother. She hid the feelings that she held toward Ephane from him. Merrick knew why, so he never questioned her motivations to keep his father apart from him. 

Opaline was like glass. She was very sturdy, and could withstand many different vibrations. However, if that one vibration - one special pitch - was achieved, she would instantly burst and shatter into little, painful glass shards. 

In Merrick's mother's case, that special pitch was Ephane. 

She loved him dearly, Merrick knew that much. But then again, she also loved Animus as well, the only father that Merrick really knew. 

Ever since Merrick could remember, Animus had always been there for him. Taking him under his wing and mentoring him, Animus taught him the basics of combat, how to find humor in life, and what it meant to live. He filled a gaping hole that had been left behind by the death of Ephane, both in Merrick's life and his mother's heart. 

Merrick only knew of one great man, and his name was Animus Aerlyn. Ephane Baliton was a legend to Merrick; yes, his father, but still a legend that he heard of, but never knew. 

So while Misia and Leona may not have been lying, in Merrick's mind, they had been lying. 

"Why are you so quiet, Merrick?" Thane poked at the boy's arm, trying to get him to speak up. "So deep in thought. What's going on?" 

Merrick lifted his head and flashed the young prince a devilish grin, pushing aside the thoughts that consumed him and allowing himself to indulge in the company of his friends. "I was just planning how I would get back at you for that last prank you pulled. You may be older than me, but I'm not letting you get away with **that**..." 

***

"How goes my daughter's apprenticeship, High Priestess?" 

Opaline glanced up from her silver goblet of wine at King Parn to her left. "Well, every time she returns from the Clan Sanctuary, she appears to know much more than before. I wouldn't know exactly how well she is doing, as High Priest Vanault sees her more than I do." The brunette beauty turned to smile at Vanault, who sat on the other side of her at the table. 

Swallowing some wild rice down, her childhood friend acknowledged the statement. "Yes. She is doing brilliant, my king. She has mastered so much at such a young year. Soon enough, she will be able to practice her sorcery as well." 

"The princess is rapidly approaching her eighth year, isn't she, my king?" Opaline questioned, clarifying what she already knew. 

"Yes, she is." A wistful tone took over King Parn as he looked at his two children: his son eating and joking with the trainees and his daughter quietly feasting with those of the Wildzord Clan. "Thane is now of seventeen years and she is nearly of eight - of the age where I must be considering who her protector shall be." 

"Is there anyone of skill or merit?" Vanault queried, quite curious as eventually this fellow chosen to be Princess Shayla's protector would be spending quite a bit of time at the Wildzord Clan Sanctuary. Hopefully, the boy would be someone he would be able to get along with. 

"The general here seems to be supporting one of his prodigies for the job," King Parn answered with a grin, causing Animus to unsubtly choke on his food for a split second and start coughing. 

Opaline and Vanault looked questioningly at the young man seated on the other side of the king. "Who?" Opaline asked. Her eyebrow was arched curiously in Animus' direction as he appeared slightly sheepish. 

"Animus has suggested your son, Opaline." 

The High Priestess and the High Priest both wore bewildered looks at the announcement, for two entirely different reasons. 

Opaline was a bit angry at Animus for not cluing her in. As much as she did love Merrick and believed he was destined to be great, there was no way she believed he would be able to protect the princess without his feelings for her interfering. At seven years, he had already shown a slight interest in Shayla, and Opaline knew that interest would only grow further if he was bonded to her in such a way as a protector was to a princess. She didn't want him to endure the secrets and the hiding that a forbidden love required. 

Vanault, on the other hand, was only thinking of himself. There was no way he would be able to tolerate seeing the spawn of the man that stole Opaline from him every day. It would only drive him crazy with jealousy and anger, two things he had never really been able to put a secure reign on over the years and did not want to lose control of. 

"My son isn't qualified, King Parn-" 

"Not qualified?" King Parn laughed at the notion, taking a sip from his own goblet of wine. "Simply being Ephane's son qualifies him, Opaline!" 

"But-" 

Before Opaline could push her case further, Animus interrupted, appealing to King Parn. "In all honesty, my king, I think High Priestess is just a bit hesitant to allow her son to handle such a big responsibility. Of course, she needn't worry because he would only begin to take his place by the princess' side when she reaches her fifteenth year." 

"I already knew that, General," the beauty insisted heatedly, casting a momentary glare at the general. 

Noting Opaline's rising anger, Vanault quickly went into action to calm her down before she exploded at the two men and embarrassed herself thoroughly. "Opaline, why don't you and I go over to the Clan and say hello?" His voice gentle and coaxing, he took the woman's right arm into his own and they left the table, effectively removing them from the conversation. 

Making their way around the tables, but in the exact opposite direction of where the Clan resided, Vanault quickly led Opaline out of the crowded, humid Great Hall and into the empty castle corridors. 

A terse silence held between the two until they finally reached the doors that led out to the garden and the cool autumn wind washed over them both. "Why must we have a fire in that room?!" Opaline huffed, throwing her head up to look at the night sky filled with stars and the glowing full moon. 

"The same reason I have to wear this hot tunic," Vanault replied quite easily, tugging at the green tunic he wore that was similar to Animus', "tradition." Standing by her side, he allowed a wisp of her hair to tickle his face for a moment. "Tradition dictates our lives, Opaline - especially you and I." 

"Tradition!" she exasperated once more, moving away from Vanault and into the greenery before her. Leaning against a trellis covered in thick vines, she cast the angry pout upon her face in his direction, seeking answers. 

Tracing her glare, he walked a straight line until he stood before her. "I'm not going to tell you what you want to hear," he warned, folding his arms across his chest casually. "We both know that you're scorning tradition right now because it is threatening to take your son away from you. In any other position, you'd probably be spelling out tradition in bursts of light and dancing in its name." Opaline arched her eyebrow at him, and he simply quirked a small smirk. "Look, I'm not thrilled at the princess gaining an entourage either, but you don't hear me crying and screaming to change it otherwise." 

"I was not crying and screaming!" 

It was Vanault's turn to arch his eyebrow at his old friend. 

The high priestess' face softened and she looked toward the bush of blossoming berries beside the trellis. "Okay, I wasn't crying...but I know I can change it!" Her voice was lined with futility, knowing she was simply arguing for the sake of proving Vanault wrong. "They **can** choose another boy beside Merrick-" 

"And I hate being the High Priest," he scoffed, causing a light grin to grace her lips. They both knew that each of them loved their positions 'til the death; they loved the Wildzords. He lifted her chin lightly with his finger so that her brown eyes glanced up at him through her lashes. "Merrick is the best. His father was the best. There is no other choice." 

Quietly, the high priestess nodded her head in acknowledgement of the words, having no idea just how hard they had been for Vanault to say. 

"High Priestess? High Priestess! Opaline!" 

Startled by the cries of Animus, the two looked up just in time to see the general push open the silver gate and enter the gardens. "Oh." Animus' eyes moved from Opaline to Vanault, taking in their position. 

"You were looking for us?" Opaline stepped away from the high priest - causing Vanault's hand that had been holding her chin up to fall away - and toward Animus. 

"I was." No matter how much he tried to hold it back, a bit of surprise still slipped into the young man's voice. "King Parn wanted me to look for you, High Priestess, to make sure you were feeling well." 

"I'm fine." 

"I'm sorry for not-" 

"No apology needed, General." The brunette brushed off his attempt at an apology with formalities. "We should all head inside. The feast should be ending soon." 

Opaline strode forward toward the gate to leave, ignoring Animus' feeble attempt to take her by the arm to escort her back. Vanault couldn't help but smirk inwardly at the motion. When Opaline was mad, she'd flame up rapidly, then smolder for quite a bit. The young general needed to learn more about the finicky ways of the High Priestess before he dared try - or inadvertently try - to cross her again. 

Watching her back as she turned around, Vanault met Opaline's gaze that past by Animus who stood off to her side. "Will you be joining us, my friend?" 

The slightly roguish-looking man shook his head and waved her off. "No, continue without me. I'll catch up with you." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Very sure." 

Once he was quite sure they were out of earshot, he moved closer and leaned back against the trellis as Opaline had just done. Recalling the bewildered look on Animus' face when he first encountered them, Vanault chuckled softly to himself. 

***

Long after the festivities of the night died down, Opaline found herself helping her son into bed, having already dismissed Leona because of the lateness of the hour. 

As her son dressed for sleep, she stared out his window at the castle ground below and the city in the distance illuminated by the full moon's radiance. Clutched in her hands was Merrick's - once Ephane's - family medallion. Absently, Opaline allowed her fingertips to slide across the smooth gold surface, still staring out into the night and remembering Vanault's words: 

_"Merrick is the best. His father was the best. There is no other choice."_

The words haunted her; only they could sound so true coming from the lips of her childhood friend. 

Ephane was the best. The best son, the best friend, the best general, the best nobleman, the best lover, the best husband, the best father. He had to be the best. He was his parents' only child - their shining star. He used to say their love was boundless and if only for that, he was determined to fulfill their dreams of grandeur for him. 

Merrick watched his mother carefully as her wistful gaze reached out farther than he could see through the window. There was a longing in the way she caressed the medallion and a soft aura of pain surrounded her that he could barely detect. He almost didn't want to interrupt her moment. 

"Mother?" 

Opaline spun away from the window to see her son already lying in his bed looking back at her. "You are so much quicker than I." She walked up to his bed, shelving away the memories for that time, and sat down. "Do you better understand why we feast now?" 

"The story helped," he answered, sitting up slightly. "I liked the way you told it tonight. So did all the other boys." 

She smiled softly. "It's one of my favorites." Leaning forward, she kissed Merrick's forehead and tucked in his blankets around him before standing up from the bed. "Good night, my little wolf." 

"Good night, Mother." 

Just before she left his room, she whispered a silent prayer for the Wildzords to watch over her precious son and then stepped into the hall, shutting the door quietly behind her. 

As she walked by one of the few torches still burning in the empty hall, she was caught from behind, a hand clamping down over her mouth, silencing her. She was then pulled around a corner, out of sight. 

"Don't scream, Opaline." The high priestess stopped struggling and nearly rolled her eyes out of their sockets at the familiar tone. 

The hand over her mouth released and she twisted around in the dark little corner to come face to face with Animus. "Is this your new pastime?" she snapped at him. "Lying to people and then kidnapping them?" 

He scowled at her remark in a hurt fashion as he motioned with a finger to his lips to be quiet. "I never lied to you," he insisted in a hushed voice. "You never asked so I couldn't very well have lied to you." 

"Thank you for clearing up the discrepancy." Pulling away from him, Opaline prepared to leave the tight spot. "Now, if you don't mind-" 

"I want to apologize, Opaline." 

"I told you that you didn't need to apologize." 

"Look at me!" he demanded, spinning her around so that she was staring directly into his face. "I'm going to apologize because it's what I do when I make a mistake." Animus half-expected to her say something back, but when she didn't, he continued. "I didn't tell you about the whole Merrick-and-Shayla thing because I knew you wouldn't let Merrick do it. So, I thought maybe with a little pushing from King Parn you might allow it. I should've known better - after all, I've done a few stupid things to get you mad at me." 

She ducked her head and gave a soft laugh. "You certainly have. You are an experienced soldier in battles with the High Priestess' anger." 

"Am I forgiven?" 

"I'm supposed to be mad with you for the next few days." Opaline slipped her arms around his waist, hugging him close and resting her head on his shoulder. "Vanault will definitely be suspecting if I'm not." 

"Just tell him the truth, for once. I apologized and you forgave me." His hand stroked her hair, his fingers entangling in her soft curls. "Speaking of Vanault, what was going on in the gardens when I found you both?" 

The woman buried her face into his shoulder and giggled at the jealous tone of his voice. "Possessive, aren't we?" she mumbled into his shirt, still giggling. "If you really must know, I was just about to kiss him when you found us." 

Animus offered her a reproachful look as she lifted her head. "Be serious. What was going on?" 

"Nothing," she answered quite honestly, kissing his lips lightly. "Vanault was the first friendly face I saw in the orphanage after my father's death and has been by my side since. He is my friend. He knows me very well. All he was doing was calming me down and allowing me to see your side of the picture." 

"And that's all?" 

"That's **all**." 

"Good." Fully assured, Animus seized her lovely lips with his own hungrily. Since their unexpected tryst earlier that night prior to the feast, he had been craving her dangerously and the same was for Opaline. Even with their little stumbling block of an argument, their passion resided ever so close to the surface of their public facades, waiting for a dark corner to be released in. 

Pulling away from him reluctantly and rather aroused as well, she shook her head. "No. Not tonight, Animus. It's late. I have to meet with the village priests and priestesses tomorrow afternoon-" 

"Tomorrow afternoon," he kissed her lips, "is far," moved over to nip playfully at her ear, "from now," before settling at the base of her neck and massaging his tongue against her pulse. 

Opaline tried to vocalize her resistance once more, but found her voice swallowed up by a pleasurable sigh instead. Her walls fell and she allowed herself to be won over by Animus' ministrations, the responsibilities of the high priestess left far behind in the recesses of her mind. 


	2. LoA: The Wolves' Downfall II

II – And The Glass Breaks 

The next morning, the sun hadn't even risen when Opaline was unhappily torn from her sleep by the warmth of her lover leaving her bed. "Animus..." 

Animus, who had already pulled on his pants, sat back down on his side of the bed in order to put on his socks and his boots. "I'm sorry, Opaline, but the sun will soon rise and you know my boys will be awake by then." 

Slightly more awake, she propped her head up with her arm and watched him as he put on one sock and then the other. "Can't you get Mave or Thane to train them today?" she softly pleaded, wanting him to come back to bed. 

The dark blond young man chuckled at his lover's soft insistence. "Looks as if I will have to be the reasonable one this morning." 

She pouted playfully, crawling down the bed to sit behind him, leaning against his back with her arms wrapped securely around his waist. "I'm reasonable," she proclaimed, kissing his bare shoulder. "Now, come to bed." 

"You are so spoiled." 

"Am not." 

"Are too." Turning around, Animus pulled Opaline into a long kiss, burying his hand into her dark tresses while keeping her close. Eventually, he reluctantly dragged himself away, smiling as Opaline continued to savor the kiss lazily, her eyes closed and her lips slightly pursed. "As much as I love you, I don't think it would be wise for me to stay any longer. If Leona were to walk in on us-" 

"-it would be disastrous," she finished his sentence, concurring with him. "There is no other choice." 

With her words, Animus returned to putting his boots on and then grabbed his blue tunic from where it had been tossed, putting that on as well. Opaline looked on quietly, her brown eyes following his every movement. 

"The boys are staying with me today, right?" 

"Right. I have to meet with the village priests and priestesses this afternoon at the Clan Sanctuary." 

"Well, I'd better get going then, before Thane plays another practical joke on the boys." 

"You'd better. I'll have Merrick down there in an hour for breakfast." 

He nodded and bent down over the bed to quickly steal a kiss from her. "Have a good morning." 

"You too." Opaline managed a smile, but she could feel the dread welling within her. She didn't want him to leave at all, but she knew that it wasn't possible for him to stay. Everything they were doing was wrong, according to custom. 

And as he opened the door and snuck out into the hall silently, she simply wished that she didn't always have to be left alone in the dark. 

***

"A little late, aren't we?" 

Animus stopped creeping down the dark hall and winced at Thane's scolding voice. He was only a step away from his room, too! He turned around to face the young prince. "What are you doing up right now?" he accused, shifting the subject from himself. 

"I was going to draw on Mave's face." In the shadows, the young man held up one of the pencils used to draw the animals upon their necks. He waved it for Animus to see. "I've been picking on Merrick for awhile. I figured it was someone else's turn." Thane spoke with such an obvious tone that Animus didn't doubt his motives. Besides, his reputation preceded him in the realm of practical jokes. "What are **you** doing up so early, in the same clothes from last night?" 

The forceful implication in the young man's tone didn't escape the blond and he smirked slightly. "I got drunk and fell asleep in the stables. One of the guard dogs licked me awake and I came back here with a very painful headache." 

"You are such a liar." 

"A liar that can sentence you to an entire week of stables duty." 

Thane's eyes widened in horror at the prospect. He had done enough stables duty to last him a lifetime when he was in training. No way was he going to get himself stables duty again when we was a soldier. "I relent." He quickly retreated from his pursuit of Animus' whereabouts. "You didn't have to threaten me," he grumbled under his breath. 

The older man grinned at Thane, satisfied his threat produced the wanted reaction. "Sometimes, with you Thane, it's the **only** way." He clapped the soldier on the back, ushering him forward. "Come on. Let's go wake up the boys." 

As the two of them began to walk past Animus' room toward the large room where all the boys of the training regiment slept and ate, Animus took a second look at the pencil Thane carried with him. "You **do** realize that that color would've never worked on Mave, right?" 

***

Opaline failed to stifle another yawn as she examined herself in the mirror, worrying Leona, who was in her room with her. 

"Did you sleep well last night, High Priestess?" the handmaiden asked in concern, pausing to glance at Opaline while she made the bed. 

The brunette smiled privately to herself while smoothing out the long skirt of her dark green dress. "Last night was a long night. I slept well, there just wasn't much time for sleeping after the feast was through." 

"Well, perhaps that tea I brought for you will rejuvenate you." 

Moving over to her dresser, Opaline picked up her silver brush, running it through her hair to remove the tangles. "It certainly smells good," she replied, the soft fragrance of the cup of tea sitting on the corner of her dresser wafting into her nostrils. "I will certainly be needing that today. Being back at the Sanctuary always tends to be a busy time for me; the younger clan members are always so eager to talk to me and I never have quite enough energy to keep up with their fast pace." She chuckled to herself, setting the brush down. "I'm getting old." 

Leona laughed at the preposterous idea. "You are **not** getting old, High Priestess. If you can recall, I'm older than **you**." 

"But you're still as sharp as ever, Leona! My memory and stamina simply seem to fade with time," Opaline insisted, taking a sip from her tea. 

The redheaded woman shook her head, a smile gracing her lips. "I had best make sure that Merrick is ready to go to breakfast with the regiment." She changed the subject entirely, heading toward the door. 

Opaline's eyes glittered with mirth as she recognized Leona's swift dodging of the topic. "Thank you," she acknowledged, as the door shut behind her handmaiden of eight years. 

Taking her tea, Opaline walked over to the window in her room and pushed one of the panes open, allowing the cool morning air to touch her face. There, she quietly finished her tea, musing upon the events that the day held for her, until a knock came to her door. 

"High Priestess? We've come to escort you to the Clan Sanctuary at the orders of General Animus." 

She smiled happily, recognizing the announcing voice. Setting her finished cup of tea aside, she rushed to the door and opened it to find Captain Mave and the young Prince Thane standing before her. "Mave!" she cried gleefully, pulling the dark-skinned man into a hug. "Oh, I haven't seen you in so long!" 

Mave hugged her back tightly. "It is so good to see you again, High Priestess." 

As they pulled away from the hug, Opaline swatted the younger man. "Stop being so formal!" she scolded him playfully. "It's Opaline, not 'High Priestess.' I refuse to have you calling me that; you were Ephane's closest friend, and thus one of mine." 

"Fine then. Opaline." Mave ducked his head shyly. 

Opaline nodded in satisfaction, then looked beyond Mave at the dark-haired Thane. "Now, what did you do to earn the pleasure of escorting me, my Prince?" 

Thane grinned as he had known he wouldn't be able to escape the interrogation. "What makes you think that I didn't come to simply see you, Opaline?" he teased lightly, knowing she would never buy it. Opaline had taken him under her wing after his mother's passing and knew him quite well, especially how he was always managing to stir up trouble, but always in a fun-loving manner. 

Retrieving her green-hooded cloak from where she had laid it out on a chair, the high priestess approached the young soldier and stared him down. "**You** don't get to call me Opaline, my dearest Prince. You will hold with tradition and treat me with respect; it is 'High Priestess' to you." 

Thane picked up on the hint of teasing in her voice and nodded his head, playing along. "Yes, High Priestess," he replied properly and then answered her former question. "Animus caught me trying to draw on Mave's face this morning." 

"With what?" Opaline looked a bit confused as she shut the door to the room behind her. 

As they proceeded to walk down the hall toward the grand staircase, Mave piped up to answer for his friend, a knowing smirk on his lips. "He decided that drawing on my face with a black skin pencil would be funny." 

Opaline giggled, tugging her cloak closely around her. "You do realize that wouldn't have shown up on Mave's face very well, right?" 

"I think you're the tenth person to tell me that so far this morning." Thane also laughed at his own momentary stupidity, running a hand through his messy black hair. 

Mave glanced over at Thane, an evil glint in his eyes. "Well, we have to take every chance we can to make fun of you, my Prince. After all, once you ascend to king, if we laugh at you, you could have us executed!" 

***

"Merrick, over here!" 

Merrick entered the training regiment quarters to see all the boys just starting their breakfasts, except for one who was waving madly at him. The Merrick grinned and waved back at his friend, heading in his direction. 

"You're late," Van remarked, chomping into his roll of fresh bread while reaching for an apple from the bowl at the center of the table. Merrick slid into the seat next to him at the end of the bench. "General Animus already gave us his blessings." 

"Well, he'll just have to take it up with my mother if he's angry," Merrick replied, taking the apple that Van handed to him and biting into it hungrily. 

The boy to the right of Van leaned in conspiratorially. "Actually, he ran right back into his room once he we started eating," Ryden whispered to the two other boys. His dark eyes glittered with daring curiosity. "We should go spy on him." 

Merrick nearly choked on the second bite of his apple at the idea, but perhaps he should've expected Ryden's suggestion. Ryden, Van, and him were very close as they had been the only three boys accepted into the training regiment the year they entered. Ryden was a bit like Thane, in that he was always getting into trouble, but a lot of the time it was just because of his natural curiosity to want to know everything. Van, however, was a bit more reserved and sarcastic, although he did have his moments of childish abandon; the training had yet to beat it out of him. 

"Are you trying to be stupid, or does that come naturally?" 

"The General was anxious this morning, and if I was stupid, I wouldn't have noticed that." Ryden purposely glared at Van. "I just want to know why." 

"You could just ask him," Merrick pointed out, much to Ryden's chagrin. 

"This coming from his apprentice." 

"He doesn't tell me everything!" the young Baliton argued insistently. 

"Well, he should," Van commented, "considering you **are** the son of the brilliant Ephane." 

Merrick rolled his eyes at his friend. The same friend who could easily beat him when it came to naming all the Wildzords by heart. "You're the smart one, Van. Your mother has been telling you legends of Ephane again, hasn't she?" 

Van grinned at the knowing tone of Merrick's voice. "I can't even mention your name without her going on a tirade about General Ephane. It's always the same every seasonal recess." 

Ryden listened to their conversation half-heartedly as he eyed the ajar door to Animus' room that was only twenty steps away from where they sat. He stared for a little bit, before standing up and finally deciding. "I'm going." 

Merrick and Van, both surprised by his sudden movement, tried to grab the sleeve of his tunic to stop him, but failed. "Come back!" Merrick hissed, loud enough for Ryden to hear over the other chattering boys that filled the room. 

"No!" Ryden retorted, continuing toward the door that separated the quarters of the training regiment from General Animus' room. 

Glancing back at Van for a moment, they came to a silent consensus and quickly caught up with Ryden crouched at the foot of the door, seen only by the few other boys who sat near them at their table. 

Merrick had seen Animus' room before - he'd **been** in it before - but seeing it from that little crack at that moment was an entirely different view. Ryden seemed to have a similar opinion. "What is he doing?" he whispered, slightly in awe as well as confused. 

From their view, they could see Animus sitting at his dresser running his hand along something laying flat on the honey-colored wood. Though he was practically right next to the barely open door, the blond man hardly noticed the three young trainees crowded at the small crack, struggling to see. His attention was completely focused on the object and he looked rather deep in thought. 

"Can you see it?" Van whispered, not having to explain what exactly "it" was. 

"Not really," Ryden answered, squirming to get a better view. He was shoved into the corner and had a hard time seeing everything that was happening within the room. 

However, Merrick said nothing as he was stunned into silence by what he was able to see that his friends obviously couldn't: the elusive item; Animus had lifted the object off the dresser and held it delicately in his hands, examining it. The only reason Merrick could identify the object was because he had seen one similar to it in his mother's chest where she kept all of her prized possessions. 

Cradled in Animus' hands was a beautiful gold necklace with a large diamond-shaped blue gemstone positioned at the center. 

One that looked suspiciously like the engagement necklace that Merrick's father had given to his mother eight years earlier. 

***

Together, Opaline, Mave, and Thane wandered through the sleepy city of Tribute, the population slowly awakening to the beautifully sunny morning. 

Walking the dirt streets, they saw a few crazy roosters running about the rooftops crowing loudly. Dogs lying outside before their owners' houses yawned widely as the noise startled them from their peaceful sleep. In a few houses, the windows were already pushed open to greet the new day, while the three could smell the beginnings of breakfast wafting from other houses. A select few were already out and about and when they ran into the high priestess, the Animarian army captain, and the crowned prince they made sure to acknowledge them properly with a slight bow of the head. 

"Have you ever been to the Sanctuary, my Prince?" Opaline questioned curiously, trying to recall herself if he indeed had. 

"Yes, but only once; I had ten years when you brought my training regiment here," he replied, vaguely remembering his childhood impressions of the wondrous place. "When I was younger, my mother had always wanted to take me to the Sanctuary, but I was always busy training or working with my father at the time." 

"You've been deprived," Mave stated with a chuckle, only half-serious. "The Wildzord Clan Sanctuary is one of the most beautiful places in all of Animaria. You couldn't have possibly experienced it completely, having only seen it once." 

"I don't doubt it," Thane returned, looking to his friend with a small smile. "Shayla _lives_ there and when she was younger, all she would do every seasonal recess was babble about the new places she had seen and been to within the Sanctuary." He remembered the times when his bubbly sister would pull him aside and regale him for hours about her training under High Priest Vanault and Sanctuary Priestess Rai. 

"And why haven't you returned to the Sanctuary since I brought you?" Opaline questioned in a scolding manner, pushing back a strand of hair that had escaped the confines of her loose leather binding. 

"I don't know," he replied somewhat quickly, and the woman could hear the prince withholding something in the tone of his voice. She didn't dare push it, however, as Thane would tell her if he wanted her to know. Besides, his attention had been diverted elsewhere. 

Following the dark-haired soldier's gaze to the ever-open front gates of the Clan Sanctuary, a smile slipped onto the brunette's lips and grew. "Rai," she softly voiced, her smile communicating just how happy she was to see the young woman. 

"High Priestess Opaline." The petite redhead walked forward to meet Opaline and the two women hugged tightly as the two soldiers looked on. "It is so good to see you again, even if it isn't for pleasure." 

The older woman had stepped back, but continued to lightly clasp Rai's arms. "It has been awhile. I've been so busy with training the soldiers-" 

"I quite understand," she replied with a grin. "The Fawns keep the High Priest and I incredibly busy." 

"Not busy enough to keep you from waiting here for me." 

Rai nodded, glancing beyond her friend toward the two escorts. "Captain Mave, Prince Thane, it is good of you to visit our clan today." She greeted them appropriately, bowing her head slightly. 

"Just doing our job by the hand of General Animus," Thane smoothly replied, already enraptured by the beautiful redhead and trying ever so hard to impress her. Mave snickered quietly at his young friend's aggressiveness. 

The sanctuary priestess took note of the prince's behavior and blushed lightly, biting her lip in slight embarrassment. "Shall we go in?" She turned to face Opaline once more to hide her face from the young man. "The Fawns are anticipating your arrival." 

"I'm sure they are," Opaline acknowledged, leading the other three forward as she began to walk into the grassy courtyard of the Sanctuary and braced herself for the onslaught of curious children. 

***

"General?" 

Animus glanced away from watching the training regiment of youthful boys sparring their afternoon away in the spacious courtyard. He looked down into the clear blue eyes of his apprentice. "Yes, Merrick?" 

The boy shifted uneasily under the older man's gaze. Ever since he had seen the engagement necklace earlier that morning, Merrick hadn't been able to think about anything else. Just the night before he had been willing to claim Animus as his father, but with the new information that he had, the young Baliton boy couldn't help feeling somewhat protective of the invasion of his family - at the replacement of his legendary father who could no longer defend his place at his mother's side. 

"Merrick, did you want to say something to me?" 

The dark-haired trainee opened, then closed his mouth, trying to find the appropriate question to ask. He struggled, but he decided not to back down; he had to know. 

"Do you truly love my mother?" 

The young general - who had been drinking from a cup of water drawn from the bucket sitting nearby against the stable wall - nearly spit out his mouth of water. Restraining himself from drawing attention, the dark blond forcefully swallowed. 

Just as he was about to berate his lover's son for asking the random question, Animus noted the honesty held within Merrick's features and found himself unable to deny the boy his answer. He imagined there must have been a good reason behind asking and he didn't totally mind answering the one person who should probably know his true feelings other that Opaline herself; anything he felt or did for her was bound to affect Merrick as well. 

Silently, Animus nodded his head in affirmation. "I love her, Merrick. I love your mother very much." 

"Am I interrupting anything, General?" 

Animus twisted around to see Mave standing behind him. "Not really," he replied, pretty sure that the man towering over him hadn't heard anything. Animus stood up from his kneeling position and gently nudged Merrick off. "Go on. Get back to your sparring." 

As they both watched Merrick run off to join Van and Ryden across the courtyard, Mave asked, "So, did the Prince return yet?" 

"Thane?" Animus reiterated, confused by the implications of Mave's tone. "No, he hasn't returned, though I was expecting him earlier. I thought he was with you." 

"He was with me until I left the Sanctuary this morning to do the usual rounds at the castle and city posts." A huge smirk sat upon the normally solemn man's lips as he grabbed a cup off the side of the water bucket and drew himself some water. 

"You left him at the Sanctuary?" 

"Per his and the High Priestess' insistence." 

"I had a feeling I shouldn't have sent him with you this morning." 

Tugging lightly as his hot dark blue jerkin, Mave shook his head. "Don't worry about it, General. He wasn't stirring up _too_ much trouble." 

Mave's teasing voice did nothing to ease Animus' growing frustrations with the royal-blooded soldier. "If King Parn knew about his escapades-" 

"He's trying to woo the Sanctuary Priestess." 

Animus stopped his tirade and blinked, turning to directly face his captain. "Rai?" 

Mave nodded his head yet again, drinking from his water cup. 

The Animarian general almost burst out laughing, quite a change from his boiling anger of only mere moments before. "I cannot **wait** to talk to Thane when he gets back from the Sanctuary!" 

"Why?" 

"Sanctuary Priestess Rai was High Priestess Opaline's closest friend when they were Fawns; the two are still the best of friends. Rai tends to appear more timid in comparison to the High Priestess, but when you pull her aside, she is a powerful force to be reckoned with!" 

The older man chuckled, understanding. "The Prince has little chance of winning her over." 

"No chance whatsoever." 

***

"I find it hard to believe that you've never been here before." 

"So do I," Thane sighed pleasantly, watching Sanctuary Priestess Rai approach him. Catching himself a moment later with his slip up, he turned to look out into the courtyard and the rest of the Sanctuary from their prime position on one of the many second floor balconies of the West Wing. "I suppose I always relied on the High Priestess for spiritual guidance to the Wildzords. I never thought to seek them out myself." 

Rai leaned forward against the stone railing of the balcony, noticing Opaline as she left the older Fawns - who had been practicing their sorcery with Vanault - for her meeting with the village priests and priestesses. A majority of men and women who served Animaria's outlying villages were already waiting in the Gathering Hall across the way on the East Wing's second floor. "Spoiled royalty," she remarked, a smirk present upon her soft-featured face. 

Earlier that morning, after all the formalities of greetings between the Fawns, High Priestess Opaline, and Prince Thane had concluded, the young prince had asked for permission to stay and explore the Clan Sanctuary. Both Mave and Opaline realized the impossibility of that request, but it was the busy brunette beauty that decided Thane could explore the Sanctuary so long as under the watch of one of the Clan's brethren. Of course, she nominated Rai for the gift of escorting the prince as she had noticed Thane's rather persistent attempts to flirt with her friend. 

So, once Mave left, Rai began to take Thane around the Sanctuary grounds, making sure he got in every last sight while rebuffing his continuous and rather cute attempts at garnering her adoration and attention. Though he was very handsome and someone that she certainly wanted to learn more about, the priestess wouldn't let herself fall victim to his beguiling charm too quickly. 

Meanwhile, the royal soldier found himself falling more and more smitten with this woman who was nothing like she had first appeared to be. She had spirit and strength, and she hid behind them to conceal her innermost self. Her numerous rejections pushed him further, making him determined to win her over - no matter what. 

"Not spoiled," he amended insistently, "simply busy. The Royal Prince of Animaria tends to be quite busy with his duties; there isn't much time to visit everything on a whim." 

"That hardly seems like you, from what I've seen. This visit of yours to see all of the Sanctuary was spontaneous, one I assume to be based on a whim." 

He glanced over at her as she continued to watch the Fawns below very closely while carrying on their conversation. "No. Not on a whim. Something I should've done a long time ago." The words were whispered ever so lightly, only allowing himself to hear them. Quickly, Thane blinked back the tears that had started to form in his dark eyes, actually thankful for the fact that Rai's attention was drawn on something other than him. 

Taking in a deep breath and expelling it, he fully recomposed himself and gave Rai the rebuttal she had been waiting to hear. 

"Unless you call yourself a whim, Sanctuary Priestess Rai, then you might want to withdraw that assumption of yours..." 

***

The afternoon passed quickly into early dusk and by that time, the meeting of the High Priestess and the village priests and priestesses had finished and they all began to file out of the Gathering Hall. Giving Opaline their respectful good-byes, they all headed down to the Deerzord Sanctuary for their final pilgrimage before returning to their homes and villages. 

The lone woman stayed behind until all of the holy men and women had left the hall, then headed in the opposite direction in order to find Thane so that she might return safely to Castle of Tribute. She had to be under some guard because the last time she left the Clan Sanctuary without an escort, Ephane yelled at her for being ignorant and young; never again did she venture outside the castle or the Sanctuary alone. 

As she wandered down the second floor halls in the East Wing of her former home, she regarded the paintings that adorned the walls with a fond reverence; they triggered so many treasured memories. 

How High Priest Kiran - her departed mentor - used to tantalize her with the minute details of beauty, down to the exact colorings of the paintings. How she used to spend hours on end before the paintings when she became a priestess, drowning in the artistic depictions of her beloved Wildzords. How she missed them sometimes as she walked down the halls of the castle alone. So much to remember, never enough time. 

Falling out of her reverie and noticing that she was only a few doors away from Vanault's room, Opaline decided to stop by her old friend's to see if he was there. Perhaps they could talk for a bit before she had to leave. 

Within a few moments, she found herself standing before the door that she knew to be the High Priest's as she once had lived there herself. Raising her fist, she knocked on the ornately carved door and waited patiently until a voice from within beckoned, "Come in." 

Turning the silver knob, the high priestess slowly pushed the door open to enter the room. As she shut the door behind her, she found Vanault hunched over his desk in the corner beside his bed, intensely working and his writing flying rapidly across the paper. "Did I come at a bad time?" 

At the sound of Opaline's familiar voice, Vanault's head shot up from his work, a bit surprised to see her there. "What are you doing here?" he queried, standing up from his desk that was overflowing with papers and notes. "I thought you would have returned to Castle of Tribute already." 

The slightly younger brunette bridged the gap between them and stood toe-to-toe with her close friend, flashing a bright smile up at him. "Prince Thane is somewhere with Rai; I was looking for them when I decided to come visit you. That isn't a crime, is it?" 

Vanault reflected her contagious smile. How radiant she appeared in her simplistic happiness! Was she smiling because of him? Did he make her happy? "No, it isn't," he acknowledged with a nod, gesturing for Opaline to take his seat at the desk while he grabbed another chair and sat down. "How did the meeting go?" 

"Like every year," she relayed, quickly glancing out the window to glimpse the slowly waning moon. "Priya tells me she had a promising student for the Clan, but the child is already quite past the year of formal acceptance." 

"What year is he?" 

"**She** has nearly twelve years." 

He leaned forward, placing his arms on his knees and clasping his hands. "Too old. She's probably formed habits." 

Opaline nodded in agreement. "This year's set of Yearlings look to be more male-dominated." 

"Mmm. That's good. The past few years have been dominated by the entrance of female Fawns," he mused, staring at the cold stone floor as he thought back in his mind. 

Amused by his serious face, she grinned. Always thinking, her dear Vanault! How she longed for the days of their childhood when he would laugh and play with wild abandon, not a care in the world. It seemed he had too many worries as an adult. "No thanks to me," she teased, pulling him out of his mind. 

"No thanks to you," he retorted with a chuckle. She knew exactly what to say to draw him out of his inner self. "Are you feeling better?" 

The high priestess was confused for a moment; then she realized he was referring to the night before and her near blowup at Animus. "I am, thank you for asking. Animus groveled and I let him back into my good grace." 

Surprised, Vanault arched an eyebrow questioningly at her. "So soon?" 

"I had a guilty conscience," she replied, removing the green cloak she had on and laying it on the back of her chair. 

"You? Guilty conscience?" He was clearly teasing her by then, a smirk sliding across his lips. "I didn't realize you had a conscience!" 

"You are a terrible, terrible man, Vanault." Resorting to the way and tactics of her childhood, Opaline stuck her tongue out at the High Priest of the Wildzord Clan while giving him a proper shove. 

Eyes playfully wide at her movements, he stabilized himself on the chair and then leaned forward toward her, his nose nearly touching hers. "Is that a challenge?" 

"What if it is? What then, High Priest?" She continued on with their game, figuring it wasn't harmful at all, but figuring quite wrong. 

Vanault could barely hear her words as his senses had become overwhelmed by everything that embodied beautiful Opaline. Her warm brown eyes stared through his clear blue eyes. Her waves of hair - released from their binding long ago - cascaded from the crown of her head and a few strands gently brushed the side of his face. The smell of her - earthly, fresh, sweet, and clean - tinged his nostrils as he breathed it in. Her soft, supple, light lips were only so far away and he could- 

The only warning Opaline had to his intentions was the slight softening of his sturdy gaze, and then her friend's lips were upon hers, kissing her, and coaxing her to return his motions. Quickly, she jumped away from him and backed up against the desk, staring at him in utter horror. 

"Opaline..." 

"What was **that**?!" 

The man - much more emboldened by the kiss he stole - stood up from his seat and moved to take her by the shoulders. He wanted to tell her everything - everything he had hidden for so long. He wanted her to know so that perhaps she could love him for it all. "Opaline, listen to me-" 

She struggled in his grip, trying to break free and run from him. To where, she had no idea. Just away from him. "Vanault, what did you just do-" 

"I love you, Opaline. I've loved you since we were children. Everything I have done has been for you - for your love." 

She blinked at him, completely stunned. She allowed the first question she could think of to tumble from her lips. Granted, she knew it was a stupid question, but she asked it nonetheless. 

"What of the Wildzords? Don't you love them?!" 

"I DO!" he retorted fiercely, staring her straight in the eye. "Only because you taught me to love them..." 

By then, Opaline was so distraught that she was crying, the tears creating new trails down her cheeks. What had happened? Why had he kissed her? Why did he proclaim his love? She couldn't love him...she didn't love him! Animus...oh, Animus...she needed _Animus_! 

Vanault's grip on her loosened and she wrenched herself away from him, running toward the door until she stumbled against the wall. "You can't love me, Vanault," she hoarsely whispered, one hand propping her up against the wall and the other at her side, clenching and unclenching. "You can't." 

"But Opaline, I-" 

"YOU CAN'T!" she screamed, her watery brown eyes going wide and wild. 

Without another thought to what lay ahead of her, Opaline forced herself away from the wall and madly dashed from the High Priest's room, nothing but an image of green. 

***

"Animus! Animus! Animus is here!" 

As the young man rode up to the front gates of the large villa that served as his family's home, he smiled softly at the chorus of voices that belonged to his two younger sisters. In the darkness, he squinted to see the two girls in the open front window, grinning giddily at the arrival of their older brother. 

One of the stable hands opened the gate for him, allowing him and his beloved mare - Fauna - onto the villa grounds just outside the Tribute city walls. "Welcome home, General Animus," he greeted, taking a hold of the reigns as Animus slid off the dark horse's back. 

"Thank you," he returned, scanning his eyes over the estate to reacquaint themselves with the grounds. Even in the cool darkness of the evening, his childhood home held many familiar shapes that were easily identifiable to his careful eye. And to think the he couldn't stand the villa as a child; it didn't seem possible. "Has my sister arrived yet?" 

The older man stopped leading Fauna toward the stables and faced the general once more. "Yes, Lady Ariene has arrived already. She's inside waiting with Lord Daros." 

"In the study?" 

"In the study, General." 

With that knowledge, Animus pushed forward to the front door and took hold of the large iron handle, pushing it open and entering the warm home. Mere seconds after his feet had hit the marble floor of the entry hall, two flashes of color bowled him over - the smaller one fire red and the larger one a sky blue. 

"ANIMUS!" 

Though knocked to the ground by his younger sisters - Herine and Cerasyn - Animus couldn't help but chuckle at their excitement over his arrival. "If only my soldiers were as happy to see me as you two are!" 

"You're our brother! Of course we want to see you!" Cerasyn giggled, sitting on the floor beside her brother with her pretty red dress spread out around her. 

Standing behind her young sister, Herine nodded her head in affirmation, causing her tight blonde curls to bounce every which way. "Besides, **we** don't have to take orders from you," she pointed out, making sure to place the extra emphasis on the "we". 

The soldier smirked at his middle sister's statement. She was tough and headstrong and of course, that's what he loved most about her. Of all his family, he felt he had the most in common with Herine even though thirteen years separated them. "Oh yes," he played along, agreeing in an exaggerated tone of compliance, "I could **never** order the two of you around." 

"Uh-huh!" Cerasyn chirped, jumping onto her feet as Animus climbed to his own from the sprawled position he had taken up on the floor. "Father and Ariene are in the study waiting for you. Are you going to stay for dinner, Animus?" 

Hoisting her up into his arms and carrying her around on his hip, he kissed her cheek in a brotherly manner. "Of course, I will!" he assured the child of five years, whose eager questioning continually warmed his heart. As the three of them began walking down the hall toward their father's study, Animus turned his attentions to Herine, who led them. "And how are you, Herine?" 

"Quite fine, thank you," she replied politely, turning for a moment to flash a quick smile at her brother. "Very happy to see you after so long." 

"Only two seasons, Herine. Not too long, I don't think." 

"Long enough," she answered, lifting the skirt of her lace blue dress slightly to ascend the staircase that took them to the second floor. "With you and Ariene gone almost all of the time, the villa feels empty sometimes. But I'm always happy to see you both return." 

"Me too!" Cerasyn added, looping her arms around Animus' neck and hugging him tightly. 

Animus hugged his youngest sister closer in response to her clinginess. Only having a year when their mother died in a riding accident, Cerasyn never quite comprehended the loss of her mother. Instead, she latched on to everyone in her sight and loved them with her entire being. It was her gift, her way of helping their family recover after their mother's passing. 

"How are your studies with Father, Herine?" 

He could hear how pleased she was in her voice. "Father is the best teacher ever. He's currently teaching me about how our society is shaped by our devotion to the Wildzords." They finished with the stairs and approached the doors to the grand study. "It's fascinating; you have an interesting role in everything." 

The general flashed back for a moment to his beloved Opaline and just how his role in their society had brought her to him. "I know I do; I live it everyday," he agreed, the double meaning of his words lost on his innocent sister. 

Herine pushed open the doors to the study and together they entered, alerting Ariene and Daros to their presence and pulling them out of the discussion they were having in the middle of the room amongst a circle of chairs. 

"Animus!" Ariene jumped up from her seat and happily ran to her older brother. 

Setting Cerasyn down on the ground, Animus opened his arms and embraced his oldest sister who was only four years his junior. The young blonde woman kissed him on the cheek and hugged him close. "Can you believe that we live in the same castle and yet, we never see one another?" she giggled into his ear. 

"We are both very busy people," he replied honestly, pulling away from the hug. "Time seems to constrain us." 

"It seems to constrain you to the point where you cannot even visit your own father." 

Animus looked past Ariene at Daros, who was aside with Herine and Cerasyn, and ducked his head. "It seems so," he returned, a small grin present upon his lips. He moved forward and embraced his father. "It is good to see you again, Father." 

"The same to you, my General son," the lord of the Aerlyn family teased lightly, clapping his son on the back. 

"You're late," Ariene pointed out succinctly, her brother turning to face her. "I was worried." 

Daros echoed his eldest daughter's concerns. "I have to admit, I was a bit surprised to receive your message earlier this afternoon as well. And then with you being late-" 

"I'm fine," Animus reassured his family, gently patting Cerasyn's head as she stood close to him. "I was waiting for the High Priestess to return safely to the castle before I left; when I left, she still hadn't arrived." 

"High Priestess Opaline will be fine." Daros returned the assurance to his son, noting the worried tone in the young man's voice. "She is a bright and capable woman." 

"I know," he acknowledged, following the suit of his sister, who had began to move back toward the group of chairs. He sat down in one of the high-backed chairs, helping Cerasyn into his lap. "It is my job to worry about her, however, so I cannot help it." 

"You two are partners," Herine reiterated, taking a seat on the beautifully embroidered divan next to her father's favorite armchair. She obviously enjoyed flaunting her newfound understanding of the Animarian hierarchy. "She helps you and you help her." 

Animus secretly smiled at the girl's comment. How close to the truth she was. 

Brushing a long blonde strand of hair from her eyes, Ariene peered curiously at her brother, who had yet to declare his intentions. "Is everything alright, Animus? You usually aren't one for spontaneity, especially with meetings - everything must be planned out in advance." 

As his sister got to the heart of the matter, the young general fidgeted slightly at being put on the spot. "I wanted to speak with you all about Mother's engagement necklace." 

Daros' eyes widened at his son's words. There was only one reason Animus would dare bring up the piece of jewelry that had been passed down by the women of the Aerlyn family for generations. But that was impossible. How could he be considering marriage? He wasn't courting any woman, was he? It had been more that four years since he had been to Tribute and Animarian royal court, so perhaps him not knowing was caused by being out of the loop, but he doubted that his son would keep something so important from him. 

Ariene's mouth would've hung open had she not been raised to be proper and not gawk. At twenty-one years, Animus' younger sister had served as her family's representative to the Animarian royal court since her mother's death five years prior. She prided herself on knowing everything there was to know about the members of the royal court. Yet, she had failed to know that her brother was in the midst of courting someone in the **same** castle she lived in? Somehow, Ariene knew something odd was going on. 

Herine gauged her father and her older sister's reactions. Two versions of disbelief. She was also a little cynical. Her brother wasn't the type who hid things and lied. Why would he hide a courtship? What was so wrong with falling in love with someone? 

"Is she pretty?" 

Four pairs of startled eyes turned on the youngest Aerlyn who broke the silence with her innocent question. 

Cerasyn turned her face up to stare into Animus' face. "Is she pretty?" she queried again, a bit more confident and insistent. "I hope she's pretty because then maybe she can teach me to be pretty too." 

Animus grinned slowly at the seemingly random line of questioning. "Yes," he replied softly, kissing the top of his sister's forehead. "She is quite pretty; I'm sure she would like you." 

"Good." She gave a curt nod of what he interpreted to be her approval - as even at her year she understood the implications of bringing up the necklace - and jumped from the man's lap, running from the room to leave the rest of her family to ponder what she had just done. 

After a moment, Herine awkwardly stood up and arranged her dress before looking to Daros. "I will go watch her," she simply stated, following in her younger sister's tracks and leaving the study to the adults. 

"Animus." 

"Yes, Father?" He raised his head; he had been staring at his hands. 

"Who is she?" 

"I didn't think this would be as simple as Cerasyn made it out to be." 

"Who is she, Brother?" 

"The woman I love, Sister." 

"That much I could figure out." 

"You are the one who called this meeting, and yet, you are hesitant to discuss the topic we were all brought here to speak of." Daros sat forward in his seat, hoping to evoke a response from the young man. 

When he didn't succeed and Animus remained silent and contemplative, Ariene took her turn. "Animus, why have you been hiding this from us? Why come to us only now? You could have eloped if you didn't want to say anything." 

Animus let out a single soft scoff at his sister's words and narrowed his eyes. "In my position?" he voiced, his voice skeptical. "That was never an option, Ariene. You know that." 

"Then why did you hide your courtship with her from us? You obviously must have courted her before having come to the decision that you were going to present the engagement necklace to her." 

"I hid because-" 

Before he could say anything more in his defense, Cerasyn and Herine suddenly burst into the room, full of agitation. "Animus! There's a man downstairs for you!" Herine announced, a bit frantic. "He says it is important!" 

Upset by the interruption and not so much his sisters, Animus' pent up frustration popped like a fragile bubble. "Tell him to leave, Herine! I have a right to be alone with my family!" he growled, gripping the arm of the chair tightly. 

Stunned slightly, but not too much by the outburst, Herine continued to give him more information. "It's Captain Mave, Animus." 

"Mave?" he whispered under his breath, confused. Why would Mave come to his family home? 

"He said it had something to do with the High Priestess." 

At the mention of his High Priestess, Animus jumped up from his seat and literally ran out of the study. "I'm sorry, Father, Ariene. I have to go," he apologized fairly quickly, before brushing past his younger sisters and disappearing down the hall. 

Not about to let him go easily, Ariene followed her brother as he skipped down the stairs two by two. 

Almost ripping the front door open, Animus stepped out into the darkness to see Mave standing beside his auburn brown stallion, Marron. To the left of Marron was Fauna, patiently awaiting her master's arrival, ready to leave at a moment's notice. "I had the stable hand bring Fauna out," the captain remarked, making a small motion toward the horse. 

"What happened to High Priestess Opaline, Mave?" 

"Prince Thane just recently returned to Castle of Tribute from the Wildzord Sanctuary alone. He said he looked for her all over the Sanctuary with Rai's help, but they couldn't find her; apparently, some Does saw her leaving by herself." 

Bewilderment flooded Animus' eyes and dread filled the pit of his stomach. Where could she be? She **knew** better than to go off alone! What could've happened to her?! "Did you search the castle?" 

Mave nodded. "Thane and I searched it thoroughly without arousing suspicion or worries, like you would've ordered." 

The entire time, Ariene stood in the doorway of the villa watching the conversation take place between her brother and the captain of his army. Animus seemed possessed by fear at the mention of the High Priestess' missing status - something that was totally unbefitting of him as her brother and as the General of the Animarian Army. 

"Alright." Swallowing hard, Animus gained a hold over his wild emotions. "Let's go back to the castle and we'll work it out from there." 

Captain Mave simply gave his general another nod and the two of them proceeded to mount their horses, riding off into the darkening night with the waning moon lighting their way. 

***

Opaline stared at the luminescent moon that was high up in the midnight blue sky above her head, as she slowly stumbled through the castle gardens. The coolness of the autumn night had begun to set in, and without her cloak, she could feel it acutely. With her arms wrapped around herself for warmth, she didn't dare make a single sound and the only indication of her mental state was found in the tears that continuously slipped down her cheeks. 

He violated her. He kissed her. He touched her. He proclaimed his love for her. 

It was all wrong. So very wrong. 

Vanault was her childhood friend, and other than Rai, her closest friend. She didn't see him as a lover or anything more than fellow priest and friend, but he obviously saw her as more. And she had no one to blame other than herself. 

She had known of his affections toward her for a long time; perhaps not consciously, but subconsciously, she had been very aware. It was her denial that made her disregard his feelings. However, because of her carelessness, his feelings had risen up to confront her in the worst manner possible. 

The pretenses would still be kept. 

The honorifics would still be spoken. They would still be fellow priest and priestess. She would still refer to him with praise in passing and he would continue to obey her like the beloved high priestess that she was. Nothing would change. 

Nothing could change. 

She wouldn't allow it to. Change brought forth the unknown, tradition kept everything from changing. **That** was why she loved tradition. It kept things from spinning out of control. 

"I'm such a hypocrite." 

She loved tradition and hated change. And yet, she was the one who seemed to spur change on, to challenge it to happen. She was challenging all tradition in the name of her love for Animus. She wanted to be with him. So, she broke the five-year mourning period and fell into bed with the Animarian general while supposedly mourning the loss of the general prior to him, her husband. 

"I'm no better than Vanault." 

Finding her way out of the gardens, Opaline walked around the outside of the castle and into the courtyard. As quietly as humanly possible, she entered the stables and went through them, crossing into the armory and finally reaching the door that led into the castle. 

Due to the lateness of the night, the torches in the halls had already been dimmed and Opaline counted herself very lucky; there was no way that she wanted a servant or soldier to run into her in her condition. 

Without having to look around through squinted vision, the high priestess knew exactly where she was in the castle and where she was going. From where she leaned against the closed armory door behind her, she dashed across the empty hall and counted five doors before she stopped. 

Turning the knob of the door she had stopped in front of, she slowly entered the room, careful to not make a sound and cause a stir. Once inside the room, she again slowly shut the entrance behind her and sighed heavily in relief when she was finished; there was a reason she was a priestess and not a soldier. 

Finally feeling that she was somewhat safe from the outside world and the troubles that she faced earlier that night, the brunette collapsed onto the large bed before her, crawling underneath the covers and allowing her exhaustion to overwhelm her. 

***

Animus blinked his bleary eyes, determined to not fall asleep as Thane, Mave, and him talked in low whispers among the horses of the stables. The two lower-ranking men had just returned from their third full search of the city and proceeded to report their findings. 

"We found nothing, General." 

Animus stared directly at Thane, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. "Nothing?" 

The prince - no matter how royal his blood - shrunk back from Animus' harshly cynical voice. Stepping away from the general, he approached his horse's stall and gave him a friendly stroke along the neck. "We looked all over, General Animus. There was no sign of her and no one had seemed to have seen her." 

When the blond turned to Mave for a second opinion, he backed up the young soldier's words. "We couldn't find her, General." 

"Maybe she's already back," Thane piped up in a hopeful manner. "She could be sleeping happily in her room!" 

"I already checked there." 

"Well maybe-" 

"I think what the Prince is trying it say is that we've done all we can for tonight." Mave quickly interrupted the conversation before it escalated into an argument over who was right and who was wrong. "We need to get some sleep and approach this all with a fresh perspective tomorrow." 

Animus was tempted to rally against Mave's suggestion and insist that they search high and low throughout the night, but before he did, he noticed how strongly his emotions for Opaline had affected his judgment and performance; it wasn't only the High Priestess of Animaria who was missing, but also the woman he loved. "You're right." He conceded to his captain, rubbing wearily at his tired, hazel eyes. "We're tired and the three of us alone cannot accomplish anything. If the High Priestess returns by morning, then we will have nothing to worry about, but if she doesn't, we will have to inform King Parn and the rest of the soldiers so that they may help in the search." 

There was a momentary silence between the three men until Thane broke it once more. 

"General, I'm sorry about-" 

"It wasn't your fault," Animus assured, knowing already what the young man was trying to apologize for. "The High Priestess has her own mind; she chose to leave the Sanctuary alone. She knew exactly what she was doing." 

The only problem was that Animus had no idea what she was doing. 

***

Vanault lay on his side, awake in bed, staring out his open window at the beautiful, silvery moon. The same moon - he was sure - that Opaline was looking upon; her strong presence continued to tickle his senses, long after her departure from the room earlier that night. 

Her forest green cloak that she had left behind still hung on the back of his chair. 

He knew that he should've felt insulted by her frantic flight after his declaration of love, but he didn't. For the first time in his life, he felt this immense weight lifted off his heart. He could love freely. It was no longer a hidden tension between him and her. 

Opaline. 

Even her name sounded light. Free. She freed him. Freed him of his loneliness and of his fears. She made everything better in his world. Even when he could only sense her - not even see her - everything around his seemed so much more vivid, much more real. 

He shifted to lie on his back, his arms crossed behind his head. As he gazed upwards into the darkness, Vanault recalled her reaction to his kiss; she had been confused and horrified. 

He understood her reaction. She was still mourning Ephane; it could only be expected. However, even that obstacle would soon fade away with the king's announcement. Five years had already come and passed. Her freedom was only a formality. His chance to win her heart was soon to come. 

"I will make your love mine, Opaline. From the moment I saw you, I knew we were destiny." 

***

Entering his room later that night, Animus sighed in exhaustion as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it. After Thane and Mave left him at the stables to get some rest, Animus had stayed behind in the stables and groomed Fauna for quite a bit. While brushing his mare's hair, he realized the ridiculousness of what he was doing, but honestly, it was all he could do from going insane with worry. Eventually, he managed to put down the brush and bring himself to finally go to his room and try to get some sleep. 

Balancing on one foot and then the other, Animus pulled off his boots and set them aside before walking through the darkness to stand before his dresser. He drew his face close to the mirror and examined his fatigued features, blinking in hopes to relieve some of the stress on his eyes that were still adjusting to the dimness of the room. He then proceeded to pull off his uniform dark blue jerkin outlined in silver and his long-sleeve blue undershirt, readying to retire to his bed. 

"I'm glad you finally came." 

Startled by the new voice in his room, Animus spun around and looked to where the origin of the voice lay in his bed, his weariness reflected exactly in her eyes. "Opaline!" he cried softly, running over to the bed and taking her into his arms. He devoured her hungrily in a kiss of desperation and relief. 

A huge smile alighted his lips as he pulled away from her. Holding her face in his hands, the man examined every part of her face, drinking her in beauty that he had thought he'd lost. Opaline echoed his smile, but it was only an echo and not the true thing; she still felt like she was being torn apart in two from the inside out. "Animus," she whispered hesitantly. She was looking into his eyes, hoping that he would read what she knew was there so she wouldn't have to say too much. 

"Yes?" he replied, sighing happily. His joy was short-lived however, because of the raw pain in her deep, dark brown eyes that he finally saw. Pushing back her messy curls that had fallen into her face, Animus gazed at her in concern. "What happened, Opaline? Tell me what happened." 

At his soft and coaxing voice, the high priestess had to bite her bottom lip to keep from crying yet again. She shook her head in response. She couldn't talk about what happened. It was hard. Perhaps, too hard. 

"Try, Opaline. Please. I won't know what happened if you don't tell me. Why did you leave the Sanctuary alone?" He paused, caressing her cheek gently with his callused hand. "Where have you been?" 

She struggled to find the words to express herself, the haze of sleep still about her mind as well as the want to simply just not remember at all. "It...it was earlier tonight," she began, lifting her trembling hand to his bare shoulder in an effort to still it. "I went to see Vanault. And...and, he kissed me." 

"He did **what**?!" 

"It's not his fault!" Opaline quickly insisted, despite her lover's dubious look. "I knew he had feelings for me and I never told him to leave me alone; I led him to believe that I could possibly love him!" 

By then, Opaline's entire body was shaking and fear flooded into his eyes at her adverse reaction to remembering what happened; he didn't need to know anymore. He could see how much the incident had emotionally affected her. He took her into his arms and crushed her to him, rocking her and rubbing her back in a soothing rhythm in hopes of calming her shocked nerves. "Everything will be alright, Opaline," he whispered into her ear. "You did nothing wrong-" 

Something snapped inside the brunette at Animus' reassuring words. "NO!" She broke free of his embrace, jumping - and nearly falling - from the bed. She scrambled to the wall of stone on the other side of the room. "I did everything wrong! I'm a bad influence on Merrick! I'm dirty, vile, disgusting; ALL I DO IS BAD!" 

Alarmed by her screaming and aware of the unwanted attention she could be drawing, the young man rushed to her side and clasped his hand over her mouth. "Opaline, you **must** be quiet!" he hissed, not so much scolding, but in nervousness. 

She nodded her head slightly, tears pouring mercilessly down her cheeks and her eyes wide in fear of being found out. 

They remained quiet for several minutes, hoping that the silence wasn't broken by a knocking at the door. Thankfully, the knock never came and eventually, Animus felt it safe and carefully removed his hand from her mouth. 

In the moments of silence, Opaline's anguish wore down to the point where she was able to contain it and control it. Using the back of her hands, she wiped the streaks of tears from her reddened face. "I'm sorry," she breathed to him as they sat together on the cold floor, recovering from their scare. "I just couldn't-" 

"I know," he hushed her, taking her into his arms once more. "I know that there are times when you think that this is wrong - when you think we are wrong. But that's not true. You know just as well as I do that this is **right**; we are **right**." 

Peacefully, she listened to his voice rumble within him, overshadowing the beating of his heart. "I'm supposed to be a mourning widow." 

"Not anymore." 

"What do you mean?" 

Animus knew he was treading on thin ice by telling her what he was about to, but she would soon find out even if he didn't say anything. "Vanault is trying to claim you." 

Startled by his announcement, she pulled away from him and sat up to look him in the face. "What do you mean by _claiming_ me?" 

"This morning - after the boys had been awakened - I went down to give my formal morning greeting to King Parn. I did and when I left the king, the High Priest entered and took my place. I know it was wrong of me to eavesdrop, but I was quite curious as to why he was seeing King Parn so early. So I listened and heard him talking to the king about you and how he wanted to court you." He paused in his speech, disgusted by the idea of Vanault pawing his lover. "After awhile, I couldn't listen anymore and left." 

Fright bubbled within Opaline at the prospects of being courted once again. It would make it even harder to conceal her relationship with Animus if she had another man after her. "Why didn't you send me a message? Warned me?" 

"Why must the Falconzord and Tigerzord be separated by the earth and sky?" he rhetorically questioned. "There was nothing I could possibly do without alerting others. Sending a written message to you in the middle of the day would seem somewhat odd, don't you think? And of course, the note would've passed through his hands before they reached yours, Opaline." 

She nodded gradually, understanding the motivations behind his actions. "Can we go to sleep? I just don't want to think anymore; I am in the Wildzords' hands now." 

The smallest of smiles touched Animus' face and he stood up, helping her up in the process. He led her over to the bed and lifted the covers for her to climb back into the warmth. He crawled in after her and laid down next her, lacing his arm around her waist to keep her close. 

"I love you, Animus." 

"I know, as I you. Now, just sleep and rest." 


	3. LoA: The Wolves' Downfall III

III - Complications

When the light of the morning sun poured into Opaline's vision the next day, she found herself having to blink rapidly to adjust to the brightness. Her entire body ached and she didn't want to move one muscle. However, the knocking on the door couldn't be ignored, and she reached over to wake Animus so that he would answer it. 

Except, as she touched the empty mattress, she came to the realization that he wasn't there and that she couldn't possibly be seen alone in his room in her state. 

Much more alert and aware, she jumped from the bed and was about to hide when she looked around her at her surroundings. The bed was made up of fine blue silk sheets. The dresser was beside the bed, and not opposite it. There was a full-length mirror before the bed. The window was facing the rising sun when it usually didn't. She was wearing her gauzy black nightgown, and not her worn green dress. 

She wasn't in his room anymore, she was in her own. 

The knocking continued, but she ignored it, trying to comprehend how she had gotten from Animus' room on one side of the castle to her room on the other side of it. Eventually, her wide eyes caught upon a note on her dresser that hadn't been there before. 

Opaline quickly snatched up the note and softly read it to herself. 

"I didn't have the heart to wake you, so I brought you back here to your room before anyone would suspect you missing. Only Thane, Mave, and Rai knew that you were gone last night; I'll talk to them. Animus." 

A soft, grateful smile graced her lips before the knocking finally forced her from her thoughts and Leona's questioning voice called. "High Priestess? Is everything alright?" 

"Everything is fine," Opaline called back in reply, tucking the note away into one of her drawers with the rest of her jewelry. "Just give me one moment." 

Darting over to her chest of clothing at the foot of her bed, she unlocked it and pulled out another one of her Clan uniform green dresses. She threw off her nightgown and threw on the dress, then vainly tried to make herself look presentable. 

"You may come in, Leona." 

The older handmaiden entered, took one glance at the High Priestess, and instantly became concerned. "High Priestess!" she gasped, running to her mistress' side. "What happened to you? You look ill!" 

Moving to face her reflection in the mirror, Opaline couldn't help but agree. Her eyes were tired and sullen from her lack of sleep. Her skin was lackluster and slightly pale. Her hair was disheveled, curls going in every direction. Not only did she look ill, she felt ill, as she was sick to her stomach. "I was very tired when I returned from the Sanctuary yesterday; I simply could not get enough sleep to cure it," she explained away as she tied the cords of the dress tightly at the base of her back. 

"Sit down on the bed; I'll take care of you." Her handmaiden brought her to sit on her unmade bed and the woman proceeded to groom the High Priestess of Animaria. 

The two passed the time in silence - Opaline's thoughts remained occupied by the past night's revelations - and by the time Leona was through, another knock came to the wooden door. 

"Who is it?" 

"High Priest Vanault." 

"She is currently occupied right now, High Priest." Opaline once again silently thanked the Wildzords for sending her such a wonderful handmaiden in Leona. 

"I have something that I need to return to her." 

Setting the hairbrush aside, Leona looked to Opaline for some indication as to how she should proceed. The brunette nodded her head; there was no point in avoiding her childhood friend. She wouldn't be able to avoid him even if she tried because of their positions within the clan. 

Leona left her and went to open the door, allowing Vanault's entrance to the room. "Do you need me, High Priestess?" 

"No," Opaline answered with a small, reassuring smile because she knew Leona was still worried about her. "Thank you." 

The handmaiden gave the slightest of nods and then left the two alone, shutting the door behind her. 

Opaline's gaze finally came to sit upon Vanault for the first time since he entered the room. In the same dark green jerkin outlined in silver, worn on top of his long-sleeved shirt of a lighter shade of green, he stood before her quietly. He held her cloak within his hands. "You left this in my room yesterday when you ran out," he softly explained, holding the article of clothing out for her to take. 

Slowly, she removed it from his hands; she had forgotten that it was missing. "Thank you," she said after a moment's pause, smoothing out the cloak on her lap. 

"Where did you go after you left?" 

"Out." 

"I'm not sorry about last night, Opaline." 

"You made it clear to me that you wouldn't be, and I respect that." 

"The mourning period has been over. It has been over for a season." 

"That doesn't make my pain any less, Vanault. Nor does it justify you forcing yourself on me." 

"Perhaps I should've used more restraint." 

"Perhaps you should have." 

The tension between the two friends was foreign and new to each of them. Never had things been so awkward or so harsh. Neither was comfortable with it, but neither was willing to back down, so the tension remained. 

Once again, a knock came to the door. "Opaline?" 

The High Priestess recognized her lover's voice almost immediately and was utterly thankful for his perfect timing. Of course, she couldn't exactly express how grateful she was with Vanault in the room. "Come in, General." 

"Opaline, I was-" Animus cut himself short as he walked inside to see Vanault standing opposite from Opaline. He quickly hid his shock, and amended himself by using the proper honorifics. "High Priestess, excuse me." He bowed his head slightly. "Did I interrupt a private conversation between you and High Priest Vanault?" 

Exchanging a glance with the older man, she shook her head, looking back to the general. "No, you did not, General," she answered curtly, lifting herself off the bed and unfolding the green cloak. She threw it on top of her dress, the velvet fabric settling upon her uncovered skin. "Was there something you needed?" 

"The king-" 

Vanault completely cut off Animus, knowing already what the young soldier was going to say. "The king had requested your presence in Royal Court." 

Animus didn't dare glare at the high priest like he wanted to, but Opaline had no problem doing so. "I much would have rather heard it from him, High Priest," she almost growled at Vanault, emphasizing the use of his title. 

Opaline's lover suppressed a grin that threatened to form across his lips. Though he hadn't been in the room when the priest and priestess were alone, he could imagine what had occurred between the two from the heavy tension that hovered ungracefully in the air. Yes, her fate was with the Wildzords, but that didn't stop her from fighting back and giving her fate a little help while she could. "He is correct, High Priestess," he affirmed Vanault's words, not so much supporting him as just agreeing with him on the facts of the matter. "I am to bring you to Royal Court." 

Her suspicious gaze fell upon Vanault. "How do you know about this?" 

"Before I came here, I went to talk with King Parn." 

She didn't dare ask him why the king wanted her because she already knew, just like Animus already knew; she could read it in his hazel eyes. There was nothing either of them could do to stop it. 

"Very well," she conceded, swallowing the fear that welled within her. No, she wouldn't let the fear overrun her. "Let's go. We shouldn't keep the king waiting." 

***

"Sanctuary Priestess!" 

Rai stopped in her steps and waited for the voice that had called out to her to catch up to her. Within moments, Opaline's apprentice was at the young priestess' side. "Good morning, Princess Shayla," she greeted pleasantly, continuing on her walk toward the Dining Hall. 

"Good morning, Sanctuary Priestess Rai!" Shayla returned gaily, a smile ever-present upon her face; the young girl struggled from bursting outright into a fit of giggles. 

Though her eyes were focused on some of the Virginal Does who were on their way to making their daily sacrifice to the Deerzord, the petite woman was quite aware of the girl's giddy state and grinned knowingly to herself. She knew exactly why Shayla had approached her in the corridor on the way to breakfast. 

"Thane!" 

At the calling of the handsome prince's name, Rai jumped, startled. 

"Shayla!" Thane called out his sister who had evidently been the one to call out his name in the first place. The young woman watched in an unbelieving manner as the princess ran into the arms of her older brother, who stood only a few pillars in front of them. 

It took a few moments before Rai completely recovered from the surprise and coincidence that the royal soldier should see fit to arrive just when she was thinking of him. "What are you doing here?" she questioned, inadvertently sounding much more accusatory than she had meant to. 

Thane gasped, feigning hurt. He took a step backward, seeming to make a movement to leave. "Maybe I should leave; it's obvious that I'm not appreciated here." 

"Please do, but do remember that I need Princess Shayla to remain on Sanctuary grounds before you go." 

His eyebrows arched at Rai and a smirk appeared on his lips; he was very much impressed by her easy dismissal of him when he was so very sure she wanted the opposite. Setting Shayla down on the ground from where she had been perched in his arms, he bridged the gap between him and the Sanctuary Priestess. "As much as I would enjoy verbally sparring with you all morning, I have duty." His tone dropped significantly in loudness and he leaned closer to her to speak. "I actually was sent here by General Animus for the purpose of discussing what happened last night." 

"Last night?" She tried to recall the night before, but the closeness of him brought on a headiness that nearly enveloped her. Wait, last night...last night she had been worried sick- "Oh! Last night." She knew she'd have to apologize to Opaline later for that slip. 

Amused by the priestess' forgetfulness, the soldier smirked yet again. "Yes, last night. Is there somewhere private we could discuss this?" 

Shayla monitored the conversation from a close position with vested interest. The Sanctuary Priestess was the only person she knew of that could keep up with her brother's sarcastic humor without becoming irritated or tired. Besides, she had seen the secret glances Thane had been sneaking at her mistress the day before. His attraction to Rai was more than obvious in his younger sister's eyes. 

The older woman finally took notice of the Fawn with the mischievous glint in her eye. "Shayla, why don't you go the rest of the way to the Dining Hall by yourself? I'll be there in a little bit." 

Caught red-handed, there was nothing else the girl could do but comply, so she did, heading off down the corridor. 

Once she was out of sight, Rai quickly opened a nearby door and motioned silently for Thane to enter the dark room. A bit confused, he entered and she followed him, quietly shutting the heavy door behind them. 

Looking around himself at his surroundings, he couldn't see a single thing in the pitch-black darkness. As he leaned against the solid brick wall, his vision adjusted slowly and he could make out Rai just across from him. "Why Sanctuary Priestess! I didn't realize you brought me to this dark room to seduce me! Had I known-" 

"-you would've even more willingly entered the room," she finished for him, not allowing him to play off his innocent act; at that moment, the news of her best friend was more important than flirting. 

She found the unlit torch in the corner of the room and easily alighted it with a spark of magic. With the light, Rai was able to focus on the prince's face about her. "Now, is the High Priestess safe?" 

For a moment, Thane found himself mesmerized by the shadows of the flames that danced along the woman's face, caressing her sharp, beautiful features. 

"Prince Thane, must I repeat myself?" 

Thane quickly snapped out of his fascination. "No, no, you don't need to," he stuttered out slightly, recovering and returning his thoughts to the matters that needed to be discussed. "High Priestess Opaline is fine, yes. Apparently, she returned late last night and General Animus found her in her room." 

"Where was she?" 

"General Animus wouldn't say. He just said that she was exhausted and didn't want anyone to know where she had been." 

"That doesn't sound like her." 

"That doesn't sound like him, either," he stated, and when Rai looked at him with confusion, Thane explained. "Normally, if something like this would happen, he would insist on knowing exactly what happened and then would tell everyone involved the straight truth - not a single detail forgotten. But this time, he barely told Mave and I anything and then insisted we keep the incident to ourselves; there was no way we could question his orders, so we did it." 

"Then why did you come here to tell me?" 

"He told me to tell you to not say anything either. He doesn't want anyone to know what happened to the High Priestess." 

"He's protecting her?" 

"I can only guess." 

***

Together as a silent group of three, Vanault, Opaline, and Animus approached the towering double doors that led into the Throne Room in which the Royal Court convened. Opaline tugged her cloak closer to herself, somehow hoping that it would be able to protect her from the words she knew would be issued in the court before all the nobles. Animus' arm tightened slightly at her elbow while Vanault's steadily calm hand remained at the small of her back. 

A young soldier dressed in his uniform blues stood before the closed doors, a spear held upright at his side. "High Priest. High Priestess. General." Each person he recognized with a slight bow of his head. 

"Announce us, please," Animus requested, his tone rather indifferent. "King Parn has requested our presence." 

The soldier nodded obediently, turning to push open the grand doors and reveal them to the people within the room. Following the soldier, the three stepped inside and stopped just after the entrance as the young man announced them to the court. 

"High Priest Vanault, High Priestess Opaline, and General Animus." 

Once the soldier moved from in front of them, Animus was forced to drop Opaline's arm though he certainly did **not** want to; especially when Vanault failed to remove his hand from her back. 

Walking down the aisle formed by the groupings of nobles on both sides of the room, the High Priestess struggled to keep her head high. All the nobles stared at her like she was a delicate figurine spun by the finest of glassmakers. She was rarely called into Royal Court, and when she was, it was always for something quite socially important. They were all aware of that, and so every movement she made fell victim to their overactive imaginations. 

While looking around at the sea of faces, Animus' eyes caught his sister's and he stared at her in confusion. She must've been called back to the castle earlier that morning; otherwise, she wouldn't have been there. Ariene gave her brother a questioning look, and with that, Animus realized that she and the other nobles were probably as unaware of what was going to happen as he was supposed to be. 

Vanault basked in the full attention that the entire room seemed to give him. With Opaline by his side, he would finally have everything he had ever wanted: a beautiful woman on his arm and the attention and respect he deserved. All the years that he had sacrificed himself for Opaline and for the Wildzords were coming to good use; he had given himself in order to one day get what he longed for. 

When they arrived at the end of the aisle where the king's elevated throne was, the three of them easily fell to their knees in respect. "Rise," King Parn directed, acknowledging their gesture. They did as their king said and he nodded his head toward the dark blond. "General Animus, you may leave." 

Though externally he kept his appearance calm, on the inside he became distressed. There was no way he would not be in the room when the king made his announcement. It was a good thing for him that Opaline chose that instant to speak up. 

"My king, I would prefer it if General Animus remained," she requested confidently, her voice betraying the jumble of emotions that she felt. "He and I have important business we must conduct following this meeting." 

King Parn considered the high priestess' words and gave her a curt nod. "Very well. If that is what you want, High Priestess, then I will not force otherwise." 

"It is what I want, King Parn." 

Finally, the king turned his attention away from the group of three to the occupants of the entire room. "You've all been called here on this morning to witness the rebirth of one of my favorite subjects. More than five years ago..." 

Opaline quickly stopped listening to her king's warm voice at the mention of the five years. She couldn't believe that Ephane's death was being cheapened in such a manner. That five years after her husband's death she was to be reborn - reborn into what? The courting arena, where men could once again drool over her like pups with a bone in order to win her over? She was exaggerating, yes, but she couldn't help but feel that way with Vanault literally already licking at her. She could feel his gaze locked on her and his powerful magic aura trying to slowly blend with her own. She felt like she was being violated all over again. 

Except if Vanault pursued her again, it would be with the blessing of King Parn. 

She supposed that it was her penance for breaking the mourning period and hiding her passionate romance with the youthful Animarian general for two years. She would be forced into one futile courtship after another, none ending happily. Animus would try to officially court her, but she would always refuse; they would only be accused of desecrating the great Ephane's memory if they did. 

Oh, how she loved and hated her position at the same time. 

If she were a peasant, no one would care. She would be free to love whomever she wanted without hundreds of other people judging her along the way. If she was a peasant however, she would have never met Ephane or Animus - the two men who taught her what love truly was and that there **was** love after death. Either way, peasant or noble, she could never have everything that she hoped for. 

Applause broke her from her thoughts and Opaline looked around the whole room to see everyone clapping. The king smiled down upon her benevolently and she found herself forcing a giddy smile onto her face to compensate for the overwhelming feeling of trepidation. 

The congratulations applause continued as Vanault edged closer to her, comfortably wrapping his arm around her waist. "I love you, Opaline," he murmured softly into her ear, grinning madly. 

Opaline's eyes darted around frantically at the warmth of the older man's voice until her brown eyes met up with Animus' hazel ones. With their eyes completely locked, she could see the disgust and pain swirling within his irises when no one else could. 

He continued to clap and she continued to smile, both of their hearts breaking in unison. 

***

"I know why the General was late this morning." 

Merrick rolled his eyes at the sing-song tone of Ryden's voice and glanced over at Van, who just smirked. "You know, I'm thinking that maybe you should meet Misia." 

Ryden gave Merrick a befuddled look, hefting his long staff - almost double the his height - in his hands; his other two friends also carried similar staffs. "Who's Misia?" 

Merrick grinned wickedly, not at all weighed down by the heavy weapon as he was accustomed to it. "Misia is Princess Shayla's handmaiden; she likes to talk and gossip a lot. I know you'd like her." 

Van immediately laughed at his friend's quip while it took Ryden slightly longer to register what the general's apprentice had meant. "Hey! I'm not a gossip, okay?!" the sandy-haired boy insisted, trying to brush himself of the mischievous label. "Besides, how do you know Princess Shayla's handmaiden?" Evidently, Ryden hit the mark with his well-placed words, as Merrick's cheeks and neck quickly reddened. "Anyway, I just happened to hear Trynim and Jaeth talking about it when you two were sparring." 

Along with the forty or so other boys of their training regiment, the trio entered the stables and proceeded to head to the armory beyond the stalls of the horses. Once they reached the armory, everyone began to carefully pile the tall staffs into neat little pyramids along the two long, empty walls. 

"Well, are you going to tell us what you found out?" Van urged, setting his own staff confidently at the top of the nearest pyramid. 

"He was in Royal Court," Ryden easily blurted, happy to tell when someone wanted to listen. He set his own weapon down on the floor, beginning the base of yet another pyramid. "With your mother, Merrick." 

Merrick didn't think anything odd of the two of them being in court together as Ryden obviously seemed to, indicated by the unbelievable tone of his voice. "So?" He set down his staff next to Ryden's and then moved out of the way so the next boy behind him could place his staff down. "Why were they in court?" 

For a moment, the three were separated as they maneuvered their way through the room congested with boys and staffs. Eventually, they were able to regroup in the deserted stables, where they continued to walk back out into the courtyard. 

"The king announced that High Priest Vanault is courting your mother." 

Opaline's son suddenly stopped in his tracks, standing quite still at the entrance to the stables. His mother and the High Priest? She loved Animus, not the High Priest! The High Priest was just her friend, or so she told him. Had she lied all this time to Animus - to him, her son? 

"Merrick?" 

His blue eyes snapped out of the momentary trance-like state they had been in and he turned to face Van, who looked honestly concerned for the boy. "You okay?" 

Merrick nodded quite eagerly, willing to do anything to rid himself of the incredible doubt that he felt within himself. Why hadn't she told him? She promised him that there were no secrets between them; in their world of two, there were no lies. Had she lied to him? 

"Shouldn't you boys be headed to the library for your lessons with the High Priestess?" 

"We are, General." 

"We just put away our staffs, General." 

Animus' apprentice looked toward him as he stood before the three boys still standing in the middle of the stables' large doorway, the other trainees shuffling around them and joking with one another. His eyes narrowed slightly as he stared up at his mentor. "How are you today, General?" he queried, quite sincere in his asking. 

Animus arched his eyebrow at the seemingly peculiar question. He didn't doubt Merrick's earnestness, but was curious as to why he chose to ask that particular question at that time. The older man glanced at the other two boys in Merrick's presence and noted their discomfort at their friend's "strange" behavior. "I'm fine, Merrick, though I could be better. And you?" 

"I could be better too," Merrick returned with a slight sigh, walking away from the general, his friends readily following suit. 

The soldier didn't know what it was - whether it had been how he said it or the way he had appeared when he said it - but almost instantly, he knew what the prodigy had been trying to imply. He knew about what had happened to Opaline that morning. 

All day, Animus had been trying to avoid thinking of what had taken place in Royal Court and had been failing miserably. He knew he had no reason to be jealous or to fear losing the love of his life to Vanault, and yet he felt both of those things acutely. There had to be a way to make everything all right - to make his love known for Opaline without the sneaking around and the hiding. Perhaps, maybe, once she rid herself of Vanault, he could officially court her- 

"Animus!" 

The young man snapped around to see a woman walking toward him from across the courtyard, passing the last of the training regiment, who were on their way to their studies with the High Priestess. Though it was fairly obvious from a far distance that the woman was a family noble in her cloak of bright yellow draped over her dress of the same intense color, he hadn't even needed that to recognize her; her voice was a comforting and familiar one. 

He walked over to meet her halfway, sparing her the lengthy walk through the lush green grass. "I was wondering when you would find me," he snorted, already on the defensive and ready for her to yell at him. "I didn't exactly leave in the most appropriate manner last night." 

Ariene shook her head at her brother, her arms folded across her chest. "No, you didn't," she agreed with him, taking a chastising tone for that instant, then changing over into one of genuine concern. "From what I could see this morning, you did your job quite well though; the High Priestess looked perfectly fine in Royal Court." 

Vaguely recalling her being there when Mave told him about Opaline's missing status the night prior, he nodded his head. "Yes. It turned out that she just went to get some air in the city and ended up returning by herself later on." He paused, trying to play off the lie to the best of his ability with a smirk, but he had a feeling that somehow his sister could read through it. "I tell her all the time never to wander around in the city by herself, but she never listens; she's already done it two times-" 

"She's the one, isn't she?" 

Animus's brow furrowed, confused by her question. "What are you talking about?" 

The younger Aerlyn pushed a little more, trying to get some sort of confession out of him; she had seen the way Opaline and him had interacted in court. There was a reason she knew everything there was to know about the family nobles; she prided herself on her ability to observe people. "Opaline was the woman you were talking about last night, wasn't she?" 

Stunned, his hazel eyes went wild at her accusation, because in truth that was what it was; if anyone knew, they would be accused of breaking tradition and having no respect for Ephane's memory. "Are you kidding me?!" He laughed, putting a bewildered and incredulous spin on his reaction. "Opaline? She's the high priestess and my friend! Why would I want to propose to her?" 

"Because you love her?" Ariene continued to hint, staring her brother directly in the eye and never breaking eye contact. 

The dark blond was the one to turn his gaze away to look up at the window that belonged to the study where Opaline was teaching. Why was Ariene being so nosy all of a sudden? "Why do you insist that she is Opaline?" he insistently inquired. "I never mentioned the High Priestess at all last night; that is, until I had to rush off to find her." 

She shook her head, a small smirk upon her lips. He was dodging her questions, but in a quite poor manner; Animus was never an incredibly skilled liar. "You seem to have forgotten who exactly you're dealing with, Animus," the petite blonde stated, lightly poking him in the center of his chest. "I am your sister. No, we did not spend our entire childhood together, but we spent enough of it together for me to know your mannerisms. You are lying to me. It is as simple as that." 

Animus didn't bother to deny her claims. She did know him well, and she knew how badly he lied. He supposed it was something in his eyes that she could see better than other people. Whatever it was, he didn't really care at that moment. The last thing that didn't need to be confirmed to anyone - not even his sister - was that Opaline and him were carrying on an affair. 

"There's nothing to be said, Ariene," he calmly stated in a firm voice. "Now, I must be going because I have people with whom I must speak." 

As Animus strode away from her, she stood still for a moment before she decided to take a last chance on one more question. "What of the woman you spoke of last night?" 

"She was never mine." 

***

The food on the table before Vanault didn't seem appetizing to him in the least that evening. After struggling the entire day to focus on the Fawns, he simply couldn't focus on a simple thing like his dinner. The morning's events continued to spin in his mind, long after they had taken place; he found it all hard to believe, but he knew it was true. 

Opaline was his. His to court, his to love, his to win. 

"Don't tell me you don't like tomatoes tonight; I told the Does to especially make them for you!" 

Sanctuary Priestess Rai retook her seat beside the daydreaming Vanault at the head table in the Dining Hall. Her light bronze hair pulled back into a tight ponytail for convenience, she peered curiously into the face of her superior. "Oh, Vanault," she teased, a grin growing upon her face as she noted his faraway gaze, "where are you?" 

At her second attempt at communication with him, the high priest was pulled from his reverie and turned to focus on Rai, looking sheepishly embarrassed. "Sorry, Rai," he apologized, a light blush staining his cheeks. "Did you get what you needed?" 

She nodded, tugging on the dark green cloak that was draped loosely over her shoulders. "You didn't answer my question," she pointed out, a wicked gleam in her dark eyes. "So, whom were you fantasizing about?" 

Vanault became a bit more flustered, but didn't back down. "Why do you think it a person?" he challenged. 

Rai drank from her goblet of water, looking around the room at the rest of the eating Fawns and Does before returning her attentions to the leader of the Clan. "I think that it is High Priestess Opaline because having known you for almost my entire life, I have never seen you as happy as you were today, announcing your courtship before giving us your blessing." 

"Is it that obvious?" 

"Very much so." 

Both of them were silent for an instant, the other conversations that filled the room washing over them until together, they both broke out into a chuckle at each other's bluntness. As they calmed their laughter, Rai stared at her friend for a moment. 

Vanault seemed more joyous and relishing of life than before. His devotion to the Wildzords was all that had occupied his days at one point, but obviously, it no longer did. Finally, he'd found joy outside of the Wildzords - not to say that they weren't important either; finding love was just slightly more important, in Rai's mind, than loving Animaria's protectors. 

She leaned over and chastely kissed the once orphan boy on the cheek. "I'm so happy for you, Vanault." 

He smiled genuinely back at her, his eyes shining. "I'm happy too." 

***

"Leona told me I would find you here." 

Merrick glanced up from where he sat at the foot of a small fountain at his mother, who towered above him. Behind her, the moon gleamed and seemingly formed a halo around her head. Her green cloak was pulled tightly around her body, the hem of her usual dark green dress barely peeking out from beneath it. 

The young boy frowned as Opaline took a seat next to him. "I told Leona not to tell you where I was," he scowled, turning away from her and staring into the ever-flowing water of the fountain's pool. 

Her brows furrowed in concern at her son's rejection of her. Had he already found out? "You forgot your coat." Her cloak opened and she pulled out a soft blue wool coat. "Leona was going to come out and give it to you, but I caught her before she did." 

Merrick took the coat and set it aside on the grass. "I'm not cold." He continued to stare at his reflection in the clear waters, ignoring her. 

For a moment, Opaline watched her son distance himself from her. All day, she had hoped that he wouldn't find out about Vanault from someone other than herself; she could only explain what was truly happening. However, with the way he was treating her, she knew he had found out. Gossip spread much too quickly through the castle. 

"Did I do something wrong?" She joined him in his gazing at the water, looking at the reflection of his cross face. 

With his movement away from the pool to turn his back to her, Opaline didn't need a verbal confirmation. His last action was his affirmative answer. 

"Who told you?" 

"Does it really matter?" 

She sighed, shaking her head. "It doesn't." 

"Why did you lie?" His voice was tentative as he pulled up random blades of grass, focusing on the little picture so that he wouldn't have to think so much about the big. 

"I didn't lie to you, Merrick," Opaline replied, biting her lower lip gently. She threw her eyes up to the moon for a moment and smiled softly; she could somehow sense that Ephane was with her, helping her figure out what to say and how to explain the mess she had been roped into. "I never lied to you. I love Animus, but Vanault...well, Vanault claimed me first." 

Spinning around to finally face his mother, Merrick looked at her, his innocent blue eyes filled with much confusion and hurt. "Claimed you?" he repeated, not understanding the concept. "How did he claim you?" 

Opaline stroked his cheek in a comforting manner, wanting to take all of his pain away. "He asked King Parn's permission to court me since it's already been five years since your father's death." She hesitated on those last words, not quite willing to articulate them. "King Parn said yes; this morning he made it official in Royal Court." 

"You don't love him!" Merrick insisted, his eyes narrowing angrily at the thought of his mother owned like a toy. "You should be able to choose!" 

"I do choose," she returned, forcing a smile onto her face to hide the fact that she was on the verge of tears. His simple understanding of what was right and what was wrong tore at her heart. If only they could all see the world from a child's perspective of true innocence. 

"How?" 

"I chose your father." She turned to an example rather than an explanation, because she knew her explanation wouldn't be terribly redeeming in her son's eyes. All she could do was either like or dislike the man who courted her. That was her choice. 

"You still love Animus?" 

"Very much so." 

"Why can't he court you? Isn't it okay now?" 

Opaline suddenly stood up, and turned around so that she didn't have to look at Merrick and have him witness the tears tumble down her cheeks. "It's getting cold, Merrick. We should go back inside." She struggled to clear her voice, so that she didn't sound choked up. 

Sympathetic for his mother's situation, Merrick nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Can I stay out here a little longer? I'll put on my coat." 

A small smile spread across her lips at his request. "Only for a little bit. When I come to say goodnight, you had best be in your bed though." 

"I will," he reassured her, his anger and frustration gone from the afternoon when he had first been told about her courtship. She had explained all that he needed to know from her; they had always been a family of few words. 

With that, Opaline left the gardens to her son, who returned his attentions back to the pool where he watched the small ripples of water expand and run up against the wall of the pool. 

***

Days passed drearily following Opaline and Vanault's announced courtship, and just as the High Priestess had predicted, the pretenses were kept. 

Animus' and Opaline's interactions were limited to the bare minimum and strictly professional. Gone were their secret rendezvous and stolen kisses, but most certainly not at the choice of Animus. Every time he tried to bring up their personal relationship after a conversation about the training regiment or the upcoming Deerzord Festival, she would shut him down completely; she was pulling away from him and he hoped it was only due to the impending festival that kept her busier than ever. 

The Deerzord Festival was never a favorite time of the year for the Animarian general, as the last remnants of the warm autumn weather faded away, allowing the cold to settle in and usher in winter; he despised the cold. The celebration of the Wildzord of the Clan lasted a full fourteen days, giving all Animarians ample time to fully celebrate their love for the Wildzords before giving in to the coming winter that would subdue their souls. 

"The Virginal Does expressly are at the service of the Deerzord and throughout the coming festival days, they will be doing their part by presenting the Deerzord with great offerings for another year of protection from our Wildzords." 

Animus leaned against the doorway that led into the study where within, Opaline continued to lecture to his boys about the Deerzord Festival. With her back to him, she was unaware of his presence; if she had known he was there, she would've insisted he leave as he was distracting the young trainees learning when in reality, he knew he was distracting _her_. Quietly, he took advantage of the moment and watched the beautiful woman pursue her passion with the young ones. 

He thought she couldn't tell he was there and she could sense that in his confident gaze that followed her every movement. There was something about him - something quite magical - that allowed her to sense him, always at the very periphery of her own magical aura. He felt warm, safe, golden. At that instant, his aura was strong, yet yearning, and lonely. His desire was abated for the time being with the long, stolen looks he was able to take at these times. 

As she answered a question Van asked of her, Opaline remarked in the back of her mind that she never wanted to keep Animus away and at bay. However, the rift was of necessity. She couldn't shake the touch of Vanault's aura from her own; his shadow followed her everywhere, a mere representation of the burdens she carried as a figurehead of her entire kingdom. The world literally rested upon her shoulders and she couldn't let it down. How- 

"High Priestess?" 

Opaline blinked, bringing her divided focus back together to concentrate on Van, who looked at her with a shocked face. "Yes, Van?" she replied with a nod, thinking nothing of his continuous questioning. That was before she glanced around the rest of the study to notice the entire regiment was looking at her with similar looks of surprise. "Van?" she prompted once more when he hesitated to answer. 

Van fidgeted, trying to find the most appropriate way to phrase his next words. To his left, Merrick tried to hide his horror at his mother's actions. To his right, Ryden egged Van on to say something, fast. Finally, the boy explained himself. 

"High Priestess, you called me Animus." 

Almost instantaneously, Opaline blurted in a high yelp, "What?" 

"Boys, I think that's enough of your lessons for today." Animus swooped in to the rescue, walking into the room and taking over control from the flustered woman. "You'll have the rest of the afternoon for study and practice before dinner tonight, so get moving." 

The large group of boys slowly stood up and obeyed their general's orders, filing past him and Opaline and out the door into the hallway. The young man stood and watched each and every boy leave the room, and once they were left alone, he guided Opaline over to one of the recently vacated chairs to recompose herself. 

Sitting down, she bent her head down to stare at the floor, a deep blush very evidently tingeing her neck and her cheeks. After a little while, she lifted her brown eyes to see Animus, who sat across from her, waiting. "Did I really say that?" she whispered, fearful of the truth that she knew she would hear. 

"You did." 

She glanced away, looking toward the shelves upon shelves of books on one side of the large study. "This can't be happening." She shook her head and stood up, pacing half of the room before coming to a stop in front of him. "Animus-" 

"That is my name," he interrupted her serious voice with his teasing one. 

She didn't even react to his jest, overlooking it completely. Opaline didn't dare even to talk about what she had said or why she had said it. She skipped over the deep emotional conflicts and stopped at the superficial level. "What are you doing here?" she finally questioned after an intense moment of silence, in which she considered carefully what she would say. 

Slightly startled by her lack of address to the situation that had taken place, he didn't answer right away. "I came to talk to about Merrick, Van, and Ryden." 

"What about them?" 

"They'll be leaving in two days to go on their Hunts." 

Opaline's concern immediately shifted from her own twisted state to that of her son and his friends. "Already? I thought that they weren't old enough." 

Animus shook his head, knowing that she wasn't ready to let go of her son, but was going to have to. "They've all approached their third year in the regiment, Opaline. You know that. It's time for each of them to go on their Hunt." 

"But they'll miss this year's festival..." 

He smiled softly, as she returned to her pacing, but at a much slower rate. "That's the point, Opaline." 

Silence fell yet again, but was broken when the mother spoke. Staring at her lover from across the room, she nodded her head, gently giving in, for once not willing to fight passionately to the bitter end. "I'll be going to the Sanctuary tonight to have dinner with Vanault. I'll go and pray to the Wolfzord for them as well." 

Though he would never acknowledge it to her, Animus was wounded by her mention of her suitor. He shrugged indifferently, playing it off. "Good." 

"Good." 

***

"What are you doing here?" 

Opaline felt a pair of hands slip around her waist, drawing her away from the altar where she had stood and stared at the statue of the Wolfzord. Vanault's breath brushed harshly against her ear, and once again, his dark green aura intermingled with her sea green one. She frowned slightly, safe, as he could not see her face in the darkened prayer chamber. 

"How did you know I was here?" 

He pressed a feather soft kiss to her neck, and she resisted the strong urge to shudder. "I was returning from the plaza after helping some of the Does carry some supplies in preparation for the Hunt sendoff tomorrow evening. I saw your guard standing just outside the sanctuary, and I figured you must've been in here." 

"Do you know who is being sent off?" she queried, testing just how much he knew. 

The woman could feel him as he shook his head. "No, I don't. I've been quite busy preparing for the Deerzord Festival." Vanault paused, grinning as he pressed his face into her dark hair. "You know how it is this time of the year. The entirety of Tribute will be flooded with outside travelers and nearly all of them will be coming to visit the Sanctuary. The older Fawns are used to the hustle already, but it is another matter entirely with the younger ones." 

Opaline smiled to herself, for a moment losing herself in her memories of the short period of time she spent as High Priestess of the Clan. "The younger ones always get incredibly excited," she agreed, times of when she would find the groups of young girls and boys racing down the halls flashing through her mind. "They don't have the discipline or complete understanding of how important the festival is at their age..." 

"...even when we may tell them over and over again," he whispered, finishing off her sentence. 

The high priestess removed herself from his arms and turned to face him. "Why does it have to be this way, Vanault?" she questioned honestly, staring directly into his eyes, once again searching for answers. "You know I don't love you." 

Her childhood friend was thoughtfully quiet, considering her simple, pleading words and taking in her forlorn expression. "Why must you make this so difficult?" he returned, licking his lips as he thought again. "If you let yourself, you can learn to love me." 

She shook her head adamantly. "I don't want to be forced to learn to love, Vanault. No one forced me to love Ephane-" 

"Ephane's gone, Opaline." 

The sharp, stinging bitterness of Vanault's abrupt voice startled Opaline, causing her to step away from him. Her brown eyes narrowed on the man before her; she had never known just how much he disliked her former husband until that very instant when she saw his face contorted with anger and hate. "I'm returning to the castle." She voiced strongly, refusing to dine with him after his disgusting display of hatred for a man already dead. 

Moving to walk away from him, she didn't even have a chance as Vanault wretched her arm and jerked her back to him. Burying his free hand into her hair, he brought her lips to his and harshly kissed her as she tried to pull away from him to no avail. "You are mine," he growled fiercely, squeezing her arm tighter as she whimpered slightly. "You belong to me. You will love me." 

Utterly shocked by the complete change in her former friend's demeanor, she could not speak a word. She bit her lip painfully, not wanting to give her companion the satisfaction of seeing her cry at his harmful ministrations. 

The High Priest of the Wildzord Clan glared at her for a moment longer, burning her with his fiery gaze. "Now, you can leave," he voiced lowly, releasing her arm and pushing her away. 

Opaline didn't run out of the Wolfzord Sanctuary right away, but instead, struggled to recompose herself. Placing the hood of her cloak over her head, she hid her face from view, then proceeded to leave the prayer room and exit the supposed holy building. 

Once he was sure that she had left him alone before the marble sculpture of the Wolfzord, Vanault allowed his anguish and jealously to ebb and collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. 

***

The evening air was crisp, bringing with it the expectant winter winds. The darkened sky was exceptionally clear, every star blinking brightly in its given place and the moon near its halfway point. A few crickets' songs could be heard, filling the otherwise silent night. 

Normally when it was cold, Animus could be found in Castle of Tribute keeping himself busy by splitting his time between King Parn, his men, and the High Priestess; he hated the cold. However, on that night, the general could be found not in the castle, but outside the castle walls in the never-ending, empty countryside. 

Nearby, Fauna grazed in the darkness, quietly munching on the tall blades of grass that nearly reached her knees. The horse was quiet and respectful of Animus' need to come out into the middle of nowhere on the cold night. Animus knew she understood why he was there: to talk one on one with the horse's former friend. 

Before Animus, Ephane had ridden Fauna. Fauna and his mentor had been the best of friends and had the best relationship. When Animus had been ten years, Ephane had taught him how to ride with Fauna. She had not liked the young boy at first - on the first ride, she'd bucked him right off - but she lightened up to him with a little coaxing on the part of Ephane. After his death, Animus took care of Fauna, and she eventually had come to treat him as well as she had Ephane. 

"You know, Fauna, you're the second woman I've stolen from Ephane," he cracked with a somber smile. Fauna lifted her head from the grass and whinnied at him a scolding manner. 

"I'm sorry. I know you don't like it when I'm all self-pitying," he remarked, turning his eyes away from the dark mare to his dark surroundings. "I'm not trying to be either, but I don't know any other way to be at times like this." He pulled his dark blue cloak around himself, shielding him from the blustery winds. 

"Ephane," he began talking out loud to the stars, somehow hoping in some shape or form his mentor could hear him, "everything is going wrong down here, but I'm sure you probably already know that. Vanault is courting Opaline, and Opaline refuses to tell everyone the truth about us. She insists on ignoring everything that has happened, after saying that she was going to let the Wildzords lead her. She's spinning out of control and I feel like I can't stop or help her because she won't let me. 

"Ephane, I know you watch over us, so if you could, please help us all. We need you." 

***

"...Eaglezord, Lionzord, Wolfzord, Tigerzord..." Merrick trailed off, racking his brain for the select few noble family wildzords he was forgetting and when he found that he couldn't think of the missing animals, the young boy threw himself from his bed, frustrated with the memorization process. 

Giving himself a short break from his studies, Merrick walked across his room to lean against the closed pane of his window. Though his room was already well-lit with a torch burning in the corner, he found himself inexplicably drawn to the clear moon in the dark sky. Glancing down into the courtyard below, Merrick saw his mother scurrying across the grass to reenter the castle; he was able to instinctively recognize her from afar, even when she was covered from head to toe. 

If he remembered correctly from what Leona had told him, she was returning from her dinner at the Clan Sanctuary with Vanault. However, it was much too early for her to be through with dinner and Merrick wondered what exactly had brought his mother back so soon. 

Opaline tried to hide it from him, but he could tell that his mother was deeply troubled; he could sense it. Her mistake of dropping Animus' name that afternoon when calling on Van had only given Merrick reason to believe in his mother's distressed mind. Two men occupied her every thought, pulled on every muscle in her body, vied for her attention and love. 

If only his father were alive, things would be much simpler for her. He would take care of her and protect her because that was his role in her life; that role belonged to Animus now, but in his awkward position he could not do much of anything. 

The Baliton boy's eyes drifted back up to the moon and soon his thoughts were traversing through unknown terrain, exploring the few memories he had of his long dead father. 

_"Come on, Merrick! Reach for the moon! Stand up and reach high for the moon, Little Wolf!_

Ephane's voice rang faintly in Merrick's ears as his blue eyes remained focused on the half-circle shining radiantly in the sky. The memory was from when he was a baby, everything fuzzy but his father's encouraging voice. They were on a picnic, or was it a walk? It was at night, and they were trying to get him to stand up and walk. The wild grass had been tall, almost as tall as him; had he been scared? Had he even walked that night? 

Merrick remembered the smoky air of another night. Before him, a fire blazed. Behind him, the howling of his mother's loud cries echoed in his ears... 

"If you spend too much time daydreaming, you'll never have those Wildzords memorized, Merrick." 

At the sound of his mother's scolding voice, the boy turned away from the window and returned to his bed where Opaline sat, smiling at him. "I thought you were supposed to be at the Sanctuary with Vanault?" 

"I was," she replied easily, gently rubbing her arm beneath her cloak, "but he wasn't feeling well so I decided to let him rest." 

"Will he be well for the festival?" 

She nodded, then quickly went off on another tangent. "What were you thinking about at the window?" she questioned curiously. 

Merrick glanced back at the window. "When did I learn to walk?" 

Opaline's brow furrowed and she blinked, confused as to what his question had to do with anything. Nevertheless, she answered him. "You learned when you had about one year." Suddenly, the memory consumed her and Opaline fell willingly into its embrace, forgetting everything else. "It was early summer, just when it starts to get really hot. We would take walks almost every night outside the castle walls to tire you out because you could never get to sleep in the heat. One night, we were in the fields near the family house - you know, the ones near the small peach orchard - and I set you down in the grass." The high priestess giggled, remembering her son's innocent face scrunched with fear as the tall blades of vegetation surrounded him. "You got so scared because you couldn't see me or your father. You started sniffling, but as soon as your father started calling to you and encouraging you, you stopped and became determined to find us. He goaded you and goaded you with the moon, trying to get you to reach up and touch it." Gone were her giggles, replaced with solemnity. Her gaze was focused on the window, staring at the moon her son had looked at earlier. "Eventually, you stood up and when you saw your father standing just a few feet in front of you, you wobbled over to him and clutched his leg." 

Her lips moved silently as she continued to muse privately on the memory. Ephane. Her lover. Her guardian. Her husband. Her friend. Why was he gone? Why did he have to be gone? She needed him to take care of her like he used to. To fix everything that was so wrong. 

It seemed as if Merrick was reading her thoughts, because he reached over and took her hand into his own and whispered, "I'll take care of you Mother. I'll protect you. I promise." 

She faced him and smiled gently with true sincerity. "I know you will." Opening her arms, she took her young son into her warm embrace and kissed his head. "Thank you." 

No matter how much Merrick promised her or Animus tried, Opaline knew deep down that no one could protect her anymore and the painful bruise that grew upon her arm from where Vanault had pinched her told her so. 

***

Books were tossed about. Pages upon pages of scorched notes littered the floor. Wooden chairs were slumped in a corner, completely shattered from their impact with the wall. Shards of glass covered the top of the bed from the broken windowpane he had created when he sent his hand through it. 

In the middle of it all stood Vanault, calmly surveying the remains of his destroyed room. 

Once he had been able to compose himself momentarily, the high priest dashed from the Wolf Sanctuary to return to the Clan Sanctuary and hid himself within the confines of his room. No one could see his weakness and shame; he had to regain control of his emotions. However, before he could do that he had to purge himself of the excess that already threatened to spill over the edge. 

And so, Vanault unleashed himself on the room, allowing jealously to rise like bile in his throat and throwing it up in bursts of rage and fiery magic. With crashes and clatters that went unnoticed because everyone else was dining, he cleansed himself and came off his emotional spiral to return to normal. 

All because of Opaline. 

The woman had been his success and his downfall from the first day he had met her. She had been the one to teach him to feel and to love and yet, she was the one to deny him those very things as well. In a way, it resembled her talent to tell wonderful stories: she would draw her audience in, but by the end, always leave them wanting more. She knew how to draw people back, make them return again. She made them addicted. She made him addicted. He was addicted to her. 

Accompanying a knock on his door, came Rai's voice. "Vanault?" 

Vanault stepped across the mess he created to open his door just enough for him to peek outside at the Sanctuary Priestess without her being able to see in. "Yes, Rai?" 

"I was just wondering where you had gone; I thought you and Opaline were going to be having dinner with us tonight." 

"We were, but Opaline wasn't feeling too well, so I sent her back to Castle of Tribute to rest." 

"Is she alright?" Concern for her friend outlined the younger woman's features as well as being heard in her voice. 

He nodded. "She'll be fine. Just the usual stress from his time of year." 

"How about you?" 

"What about me?" 

"Are you feeling alright? Maybe you should eat-" 

Vanault smiled earnestly, thankful for Rai worrying about him. "Don't worry. I'm fine. I'm busy with some work for tomorrow right now, but I will come down later to eat, I promise." 

She gave him a curt nod and returned his smile, satisfied with his answer. "You better eat or I will force you to," she warned playfully, shaking a finger in his face. 

"I will!" he reassured, shutting the door and cutting himself off from the outside world once more. 

His eyes stared once more at the chaos of the room around him. He definitely had some work to get done. 

He had to apologize soon, before Opaline made her own assumptions. Vanault hadn't meant to hurt her, he had just kind of lost control. She had to see that everything was out of love for her; he lived his life for her. 

In time, she would see that. 

And they had all the time in the world. 

***

Shayla was ecstatic. No, that wasn't the word to describe how she felt. She was beyond ecstatic. She wasn't sure if that was possible, but that was the exact way that she felt. 

The night of the Hunt send-off had arrived and she was an escort for one of the three trainees that were being honored that night. Sanctuary Priestess Rai had even been nice enough to let her pick her trainee first. 

And without a bit of hesitation, Shayla picked Merrick. 

She arrived at the Wildzord Sanctuary as a Fawn three years prior, and not even once, had her fellow Fawns treated her like the Animarian princess. They always treated her like their friend and their peer, which was a refreshing change from being handled like a fragile doll by her father and the nobles of Castle of Tribute. So from the moment that some of the older Fawns had picked up on her pining over Merrick, she had never heard the end of it. 

Her feelings for the young boy were a well-kept secret among the Fawns. Everyone knew, but no one really blabbered about it. They respected her feelings, even if some of them thought it a bit trivial that she believed she was in love with him at such a young age. She honestly believed in her love for Merrick however, no matter what they said. He had been by her side since the beginning, and she couldn't imagine loving anyone else. 

"You're insane," a pretty black-haired girl commented, staring at Shayla as she spun around the room, her beautiful gauzy dark green dress fanning around her. 

"I am not!" she insisted, then giggled slightly as she fell backwards onto her bed in the corner of the room. 

Shayla's roommate shook her head, her dark hair brushing against her beautifully pale skin. "You are insane." 

"No matter how many times you say it doesn't make it true, Meghana," the young princess retorted, sitting up on her bed and staring defiantly at the other girl across the room. 

"I know, but I like to say it." The other girl broke into a grin, moving to join Shayla on her bed. "Looking forward to seeing Merrick, huh?" Meghana made little kissing noises, trying to embarrass the brunette. 

Merrick's escort joined in on the grinning with her own wide and giddy grin. She wasn't in the least embarrassed. "So, what if I am?" 

Meghana shook her head yet again at her roommate's lack of discreteness, smirking. "If you and Merrick don't get married when we're older, it will be a tragedy..." 

***

"It looks quiet," Van commented as together with Merrick, Ryden, and Thane they approached the gates of the Wildzord Sanctuary. He turned around momentarily to look at the crowned prince. "Is it always like this, Prince Thane?" 

"Actually, no," Thane replied, then realizing that he was probably the least knowledgeable person to answer the trainee's question. "At least, it hasn't ever been this quiet on the few occasions that I've been here." 

"All the Fawns have already gone into the center of the city with High Priest Vanault." The heads of the four snapped toward the direction of the voice just in time to see Sanctuary Priestess Rai emerge from the shadows to step into the light of the torches framing the gateway opening. "Only the escorts, the Does, and myself are here." 

"Good evening, Sanctuary Priestess," the three boys chorused, giving her an appropriate bow of the head. 

"Good evening to you as well," she returned with a pleased smile as their group joined her at one of the torches. Her gaze fell upon Thane who silently stood behind the three boys, his hands behind his back and a smirk present upon his lips. "I wasn't expecting to see you, Prince Thane." She appropriately bowed her own head in his direction, mentally taking note of his well-dressed stature that night, which added to his handsome appearance. 

"Yeah, well, I decided to take these three runts off Mave's hands and bring them here for him." Thane ruffled Ryden's errant blond hair and the younger boy quickly tried to fix it. "Can't have them missing a party in their own name." 

Rai shook her head slightly at his teasing tone and allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "No, we can't have that," she retorted, indulging him yet again. "Come. The girls are waiting inside." 

The woman started back into the Sanctuary and the four followed her down the outer halls of the building to eventually enter the Dining Hall. It would have been empty, except for the fact that the three young Fawns sat together at one of the tables in the middle of the room giggling with one another. 

Merrick had not been looking forward to the Hunt send-off that night. It meant that he would have to leave his mother's side for fourteen days. He wouldn't be able to protect her like he should. Instead, he'd be wandering around in the Wolf Forest putting his training to use and proving himself to his elders. He wasn't terribly excited, but when he saw Shayla for the first time since seasonal recess, suddenly all those things flew right out of his head. 

"Deidre, Meghana, Princess Shayla, could you girls please come here?" called Rai, waving them over. 

The three girls quickly responded to the call and lined up in a neat row beside the priestess. "Now," the woman glanced at the boys and then the girls as the stood opposite one another, "Van, your escort shall be Deidre. Ryden, yours shall be Meghana. Merrick shall be escorted by Princess Shayla." 

All three girls were clad in dark green dresses with long bell-shaped sleeves and a skirt that nearly reached the floor. Along the hem of their skirts, sleeves, and neck was an embroidered pattern of silver thread. Around their waists was a thick dark blue sash - the same color as the boys' tunics - the knot tying it off sitting on their right hip. Upon the right side of each of their necks, drawn in blue pencil, was the image of the Deerzord; Shayla also wore the Lion upon her neck, representing her family as well. 

Never before had Merrick seen Shayla so beautiful. Yes, at every Feast of the Wolfzord he saw her dressed up and such, but it wasn't the same. Then, and at almost every other function he had seen her at, she was always donning the red of her family's Wildzord. She was fiery and bright. However, that night she looked completely different in the humbling dark green of the Wildzord Clan. The darkness of her clothing contrasted with the brightness of her face, and for the first time, he found his blue eyes drawn to her childish beauty and not the intensity of her dress. 

"Shall we go?" Thane offered his arm to the Sanctuary Priestess in a purposely over-gallant manner. 

Rai smiled widely at him, and took his arm without hesitation. "We shall." 

Echoing the soldier's movements, the boys offered their arms to their respective escorts and together, the eight of them began to leave the Sanctuary to head into the center of the city where the send-off was being held. 

Shayla felt a flush rise in her cheeks as she clutched Merrick's arm that he had offered. She would never tell Merrick that she was in love with him. No, she didn't want to scare him away. But there were times when she found it hard not to tell him, and this moment was one of those times. 

As the walked out the gates into Tribute's streets, he leaned over and whispered, "Shayla?" 

"Yes?" The princess felt her heart beat a little faster as he addressed her without her title, something quite common between them as friends, but still thrilled her. 

"I'm glad you are my escort tonight." 

"I'm glad I am too." 

***

The center of Tribute was abuzz with activity as it appeared that everyone was there for the Hunt send-off that night. The streets were crowded with vendors selling delicious Animarian foods and musicians filling the air with their lovely music. The decorations of the beautifully built buildings in the center alone were enough to illustrate the importance of the festivities and torches everywhere illuminated the area on the cool night. 

"A success, isn't it?" Vanault whispered into the shell of Opaline's ear, coming up from behind her. 

The woman jumped, startled by his appearance. She took a moment to recompose herself before replying, "I didn't even notice you." Opaline had been so preoccupied with visually watching out for him and avoiding him completely, she had failed to even notice his approach with the strength of his magical aura. 

Just as the dark-haired man slipped an arm around his companion's waist, a few nobles passed by, eyeing the couple with knowing glances. Opaline blushed in horror at their peeking gazes while Vanault simply grinned at the group. "Don't be embarrassed, Opaline." He continued to whisper, stroking her flushed cheek lightly with the back of a finger. "Everyone knows that I love you." 

"No one knows that I don't love you," she hissed back at him, turning her cheek away from his petting. As the high priestess lifted her chin defiantly to snub him, her brown eyes met hazel and she couldn't tear her eyes away from Animus'; he was supposedly involved in a conversation with a few of his men, but she knew better as his gaze wouldn't leave hers. 

She felt the darkness of Vanault's green aura grow stronger as he took a hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. "You will learn, Opaline," he murmured, quiet but forceful, and then stole a chaste kiss from her lips. "I will make you see." 

Opaline's eyes went wide. It was like they had never had their conversation the night before in the Wolfzord Sanctuary. Except that she knew that it had happened; the large welt upon her arm beneath the long green sleeve of her dress was her proof. 

She stared into his clear blue eyes, trying to find a semblance of the boy she had befriended as a young child, but nothing was there to indicate that he had ever been there. A deep passion, a need, a want, anger. That's all she could see. "Vanault, why have you changed so?" Despite her better judgment, she reached out and cupped his cheek, not quite believing that that shy, gentle, and sweet boy no longer existed. 

"You changed me," he answered hoarsely, her touch temporarily dousing the fires of anger raging within him. "You-" 

"Ahem." 

Vanault and Opaline turned away from one another to face the person who had interrupted them. Animus. 

The beautiful priestess found herself at a loss for words as she stared at Animus standing there, a wounded look in his eyes. He refused to look at her, directing his gaze entirely at the High Priest. "High Priest?" His tone was cordial, and yet very strained. 

"Yes, General?" 

"My boys have arrived along with Prince Thane and Sanctuary Priestess Rai. Are you ready to begin the send-off?" Glancing behind Animus, Opaline could see her son and his friends a ways off with their escorts. 

Merrick stared directly at her and looked quite horrified, as did Shayla. 

"High Priestess, are you ready?" 

Opaline looked back toward Vanault, who had asked the question. "What?" 

"Are you ready to begin the Hunt send-off?" 

She glanced quickly back at her son, who was no longer staring at her, but had turned his back to her completely. The brunette felt as if she was on the verge of tears, but maintained her outer composure for the sake of her appearance. Appearance at a festivity like the send-off was key. 

"Yes," she replied with a nod of her head. Honestly, she wanted to answer "no," but that certainly wasn't the appropriate answer. "I think we're all ready." 

***

"With the annual coming of the Deerzord Festival, we send out a few of our most prized boys into the wilderness to prove their worth, not only us, but to themselves as well. This year is no exception-" 

"Don't be mad with her, Merrick." 

The young boy's attention was torn from his mother's speech to the crowd of people that had turned out for the send-off to Shayla, who sat at his feet; he sat in a raised chair along with Van and Ryden, behind the speaking High Priestess and the General, while their escorts also rested at their feet. "Mad with whom?" Merrick whispered, leaning down to hear the princess. 

"Don't lean down. It looks like you're not paying attention to your mother and is rude," she told him in a hush voice. "Just whisper normally, I'll enhance your voice and mine." 

He nodded his head slightly, sitting back up and watching out of the corner of his eye as Shayla produced a small ball of light in her hand, concealing it behind the folds of her skirt. "Can you hear me?" 

The princess' voice resounded in his ears, much more prominent in his hearing than his mother's own loud voice. "Yes." He replied, placing his hand on his chin to hide his mouth from everyone else's view. "Mad with whom, Shayla?" 

"Don't be mad with your mother. I can sense your anger." 

"So I am, and I have every right to be, Shayla. You know the entire story." 

"Somehow, I don't think that we know the entire story, Merrick." She paused for a moment when Ryden's name was announced as he stood up to have General Animus speak about him, and then continued. "I think she's trying to protect you." 

"She needs protection more than I do!" He insisted, still talking with Shayla, but turning to look at Ryden like everyone else. "I don't need her protection; I'm fine!" 

"Just don't be mad at her, Merrick." 

"I hate seeing her with him. I feel like she lied to me." 

"She told you she didn't lie." Again, the Fawn stopped talking as Ryden sat down and Van was announced. "Isn't that enough?" 

"I believe her, but every time I see her with the High Priest, it disgusts me." 

"High Priest Vanault is not bad man." 

"That's not the point, and you know that. She says she has a choice, but as I watch her everyday, it seems more and more like she doesn't really have a choice at all." 

"It's like she's being tossed around like a ball?" 

"Yeah. I guess so." This time, Merrick paused as he could hear Animus nearing the end of his speech for Van. "Hey, Shayla?" 

"Yes?" 

"How'd you learn that trick with our voices?" 

Merrick's name was spoken aloud, and just as he rose from his seat, Shayla answered with a small smile, "Your mother taught me." 

With her last words, Shayla crushed the glowing magical light in her fist, breaking their connection. 

***

Early the next morning, in a small group, Animus, Mave, Thane, Van, Ryden, and Merrick gathered together just outside the city walls on the main road that lead to the nearest village. The boys were ready to leave as were the three soldiers, but they still waited for one person. 

"Are you sure she's supposed to be here?" 

Animus, who was standing beside Fauna, had bee looking out into the slowly lightening horizon when he snapped his head around in surprise. "Merrick, she's your mother!" All three boys fidgeted slightly, a bit uncomfortable as Animus scolded his apprentice. "Of course, she's _supposed_ to be here!" 

Merrick's lingering anger had been stirred up from the night before, and he bitterly retorted, "Why do you always take her side? She certainly hasn't given you any reason to trust her as of late!" 

Both Van and Ryden gaped at their friend unbelievingly at his words. He had talked back to General Animus! The two trainees prepared themselves for Animus' powerful anger to be released. However, when nothing happened, they looked up to see the three soldiers staring at the son of Ephane - or more precisely, beyond him - each having a face painted with shock. 

Turning around, the two boys found themselves a mere arm's length from High Priestess Opaline's dark green skirt. "Good morning, High Priestess," Van and Ryden blurted out in unison, giving her a quick bow of their heads without even daring to glance upwards into her face. 

"Good morning, boys," she replied politely, a small smile gracing her lips for them. However, the three older men could see Opaline's face and it in no way was happy. She appeared as if she had been physically stabbed by the words of her own son. 

Just then realizing that his mother must have been standing behind him when he made his last comment, Merrick felt his entire face and neck flush with shame. He hadn't meant what he had said about her to Animus; it was just so easy to become frustrated. He bowed his head, mortified and not wanting to see the look on Opaline's face. 

As a momentary awkward silence fell over the seven of them, it was left up to Thane to break it. "Good morning, High Priestess Opaline," he greeted with a smile, moving from his horse to join her at her side and kiss her cheek like the loving surrogate son he was. "We're very glad you could join us this morning." 

"Thank you, Thane," she returned, affectionately reaching up to stroke the prince's cheek with her hand. "Last night's festivities proved a bit draining for me; I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting." 

"Not a problem, High Priestess," Mave assured her, keeping an arm swung around the back of Marron. "We weren't planning on leaving until you arrived." 

Opaline nodded at the Animarian captain, then turned around to face the three boys lined up in a row: two looking up at her, eagerly attentive, while the third continued to turn away from her; she took no offense to Merrick's odd behavior, sensing the powerful shame emanating from him. "This morning I have just come to wish the three of you the best Hunt possible," she explained. "I have already gone to the Wolfzord and prayed for you to be successful, and now, the rest is all up to you. Please, find your way back home soon and come bringing new experiences to add to your knowledge and to utilize in your education." Bending down, she kissed Van's forehead and then Ryden's before stopping at Merrick. 

Taking a cue from Animus, the two quickly joined the three soldiers and began to prepare to mount the horses. 

The priestess kneeled down on her knees before her son, not casting a moment's thought to the mess she was making of her cloak and dress. She placed her motherly hands on Merrick's shoulders, making him aware of her presence, but not forcing him to face her. "I'm not upset with you," she promised him with a soft murmur. "Believe it or not, I understand what is going through your head right now. You don't know what to believe: my actions or words. And since you see me do things more often than anything else, it's easy to believe in my actions." She paused, moving her hand to momentarily stroke his hair affectionately. "Don't. You can't believe everything you see, Merrick. In our world - our society - not everything is painted in black and white. Not everything we do is right and not everything we do is wrong, sometimes it is in between." Opaline blinked furtively, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. "Believe in me. Believe in the love I have felt for you since the moment you were born. You know my heart better than anyone else; you can make the judgment as to whether I am lying to you or not - whether I am purposely hurting you and Animus. 

"I know you probably don't understand what I'm asking of you, but just try to understand. It will make sense as you become older, and going on this Hunt is the first step to your growth." Tenderly, she kissed the top of his head while sending up one more silent prayer to her dearly beloved Wildzords. "Now, go on." She let go of him and stood up, moving out of the way. "Come back to me soon." 

At his mother's insistence, Merrick grabbed his sack of supplies and swung them onto his back. With the help of Animus, he mounted Fauna in the same manner that Van had mounted onto the back of Marron and Ryden had mounted onto Thane's young auburn filly, Pence. The boy turned back for a moment to steal a glance at his mother, unshed tears in his clear blue eyes. 

Animus also was looking back at Opaline, hesitating on whether to ride up to her and say something; he hadn't uttered a word since her arrival. Just as he was about to head Fauna in the woman's direction, the brunette met his gaze and shook her head, instead motioning him off with a small wave of her hand. 

The decision made, the young general easily pushed Fauna forward into a light gallop, Mave and Thane following his suit and taking them all further and further away from Tribute's outer walls. 

Opaline stood there for quite some time, watching their silhouettes fade off into the ever-brightening horizon. Tears quietly dribbled down her cheeks and a queasiness rose within her, forcing her to retch right then and there in the tall grass. 

She struggled to regain her composure, coughing. She couldn't consider the ridiculousness of her situation, as everything was spinning insanely out of control around her. Was this the way her Wildzords intended for her to suffer? Were they not going to save her and the ones she dearly loved? 

The idea made her sick to her stomach once more, and she retched yet again, wringing her fears out of her. 


	4. LoA: The Wolves' Downfall IV

IV - Forbidden

Morning swept over Tribute and Shayla found herself awakening from her deep sleep; soft rays of sunlight fell upon her face and a cool breeze brushed against her cheek. She rubbed her bleary brown eyes and yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Oh, how she wished it still were the night before - the night of the Hunt send-off. Spending all that time with Merrick was a dream come true. No matter what they talked about- 

"Shayla! You must get up and look at this!" 

The princess turned her head on her pillow to glance over at Meghana, who leaned her head eagerly out the window and watched over the courtyard. "No wonder it got cold in here," she mumbled sleepily, sitting up and allowing her bare feet to step on the cold floor. Shayla dragged herself over to where Meghana stood and peeked slightly out the window. 

The sun had not even reached its pinnacle point in the sky, and yet, the courtyard was nearly overflowing with visitors. Nobles, merchants, and peasants alike milled around in the open area within the walls of the Wildzord Sanctuary; all were waiting for their turn to enter the Deerzord Sanctuary and give their prayers to the wildzord of the Clan. Among the crowd of gathered people, the girls could see specks of green scattered about: the Virginal Does greeting and conversing with people - the one time of the year that they associated with the population outside of the Clan Sanctuary. In the middle of it all, the smaller Deerzord Sanctuary stood above the crowd, smoke rising from a hole in the roof that indicated that the prayer fire had been lit. 

"Every year it's so amazing," Shayla breathed quietly, much more awake than she had been just a few moments ago. 

"No matter how many times I see it, I don't think I'll ever get tired of it," Meghana commented, placing her folded arms on the windowsill and resting her chin upon them. 

"Good morning, Shayla!" 

Shayla turned to her left and saw that the majority of Fawns on the second level of the North Wing with her were staring out of their windows at the spectacle below. "Good morning, Liam!" She waved at the Fawn who had called out to her; his window was right next door to her own. 

"Did you enjoy last night with Merrick?" the dark-haired boy asked teasingly, leaning out his window in her direction. 

The brunette giggled at the question; she was sure to be asked it at least ten more times that day. "As a matter of fact, I did!" she stated quite proudly, grinning at her fellow Fawn. 

Before Liam to could offer his retort to her response, Sanctuary Priestess Rai appeared in the courtyard just beneath their windows. "You all know better than to be leaning out from your windows; go into your rooms and get ready for breakfast!" she chided them, her voice barely reaching their ears. 

With giggles and snickers, the group of Fawns retreated into their rooms, already enjoying the festivities that the Deerzord Festival brought around every year. 

***

Confrontation was never Ariene's strongest suit. 

So it baffled her as to how she had ended up standing before the door to High Priestess Opaline's room, her hand poised to knock upon it. 

She was always more comfortable observing people from a distance. She'd never interfere; she'd always let them discover what she already knew on their own. She believed that they would never learn if she shoved it all in their face. Yet, ever since Animus had declared his intention to present the family engagement necklace to the woman he loved, Ariene felt like all she had been doing was confronting people. Granted, she only had faced Animus on the day of Vanault and Opaline's courtship announcement, but it had taken her awhile to gather the nerve to deal with Opaline following him. 

If Opaline was Animus' beloved, then what was she doing in a courtship with Vanault? Every time Ariene has seen the new couple together, they seemed to be quite absorbed in one another, especially at the Hunt send-off the night before. Since her new courtship, Opaline had conversed with Animus on a limited basis and always about work, as far as she could tell. Besides, having had a relationship with Animus would mean that Opaline - the High Priestess of Animaria - had broken the mourning period, and the young Aerlyn could **not** imagine that ever happening. 

However, her brother was a terrible liar, and **that** she knew for certain. And while everything she had viewed with her own two eyes appeared to lean toward her believing Animus' horrendous attempt at hiding something from her, Ariene still felt the need to approach Opaline and see if she could find the real truth in the woman's answers to her questions. 

Reluctantly, Ariene allowed her fist to fall on the door and made three soft knocks. The young blonde woman waited awkwardly, her fingers delving and busying themselves with the folds of her pale yellow skirt. 

After a few moments, the door finally opened and the High Priestess appeared in the doorway. "Lady Ariene?" Opaline voiced in surprise, staring at her. The two women had only met each other in passing a whole three times, and the brunette certainly hadn't been expecting a visitor that morning; Ariene was certainly the person farthest from her mind. 

"May I come in, High Priestess?" the noblewoman requested, with a bow of her head in respect. 

Still slightly disoriented by Ariene's sudden appearance, Opaline blinked slowly and then nodded her head. "Yes, please do come in." She ushered the younger woman inside and shut the door once she had entered the room. 

As Ariene turned to face Opaline, she took note of the woman's gaunt face and tired eyes. "Are you alright, High Priestess?" she questioned, very much concerned for her welfare. 

"I'm fine," Opaline quickly assured with a small smile that only seemed to pronounce her fatigued features. "I just had to go earlier this morning to see my son and his friends leave for their Hunt; sleep has been escaping me as of late." She paused, switching her stance in the conversation by questioning Ariene. "What brings you to see me?" 

Animus' sister swallowed hard, preparing herself. She then opened her mouth and said, "I actually came to speak to you about my brother, General Animus." 

Opaline, who had moved to take a seat at her dresser, immediately felt something inside her snap at the mention of Animus. It seemed she couldn't escape him, even if he was nowhere near her. "What about him?" she replied casually, though she put herself mentally on-guard. 

Ariene waved toward the bed. "May I sit?" Opaline nodded easily, and she took a seat on the High Priestess' freshly made bed. "You work closely with Animus, don't you?" 

"Of course." The older woman kept a steady eye on Ariene, watching her in hopes of somehow figuring out her motivation for speaking with her. 

"Do you know if Animus has been courting anyone recently?" 

It took everything she had in her, but the High Priestess was able to contain her shocked reaction to the blonde's answer. To hide her surprise, she chose to be incredibly proper and polite about Animus's "personal" life. "I mean this in the politest way possible, Lady, but I don't see how that is any of your business." 

Not a single flinch, Ariene noted as she also examined every little part of Opaline's face, searching for some reaction. And she was polite about it, not nosy! The Aerlyn woman planned her next words out carefully, not yet ready to completely give up on her suspicions. If Opaline didn't react to her next words, then there was certainly something she was hiding. "My brother wants to give our family engagement necklace to a woman whom he refuses to name." 

"**Really** now!" Opaline exclaimed, knowing that if anything Ariene would be expecting her excited reaction. However, on the inside, she was becoming nauseated once again. Animus had been going to give her an engagement necklace? "He didn't even tell me! Animus and I haven't been able to talk much as of recently since he's been preparing my son for the Hunt and I've been busy with the Deerzord Festival. I wish he had told me." Her last sentence was the only genuine thing she had uttered throughout the entire conversation, as she honestly wished that she had known his intentions before she had gone about pushing him out of her life. 

The guilt welled within her and quickly mixed together with the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach, overwhelming her with a dizziness that would've toppled her over had she been standing. She couldn't take it anymore; this conversation had to end. "Lady Ariene, could you please leave?" Opaline forcefully asked, not as polite as before because of the urgency of the matter. 

Ariene was startled by the sudden, abrupt request, but respected it like she did all things coming from the High Priestess. "Of course, High Priestess," she accepted, heading to exit the room. 

Opaline stood up to accompany her to the door, but before she could even take one step forward, the dizziness that had overcome her threw her to ground, dousing her world in darkness. 

***

Fauna galloped happily through the open fields, Animus barely leading her as she sped through the beautiful, wild Animarian countryside. Both the mare and her rider relished the cool wind in their hair and the sun shining directly on them, as the chances to do something so simple as run around during the day were few and far between. 

Unlike the pair, the boy riding behind Animus had no time to enjoy the scenery outside of the city. Merrick was far too absorbed with the words of his mother, though she had spoken them to him hours ago. 

_"You know my heart better than anyone else..."_

That was true. Merrick knew her heart like his own because they shared one another's lives so completely and fully. That was until she started hiding things. Like why Vanault, and not Animus, was courting her. Yes, their relationship was forbidden once before, but the mourning period was over! They could be together, or that was the way Merrick saw it. All he simply wanted was true happiness for his mother, for as far back as he could remember it seemed to have eluded her. He knew Animus could give that to her - only Animus. What she was doing with Vanault was beyond him; no matter how nice he was or who he was, he could not give his mother what she needed. 

The slowing of the wind against his face brought Merrick into an awareness of his surroundings and a realization that Fauna was falling out of her gallop. As Animus' gentle tug on Fauna's reigns dictated, the black mare trotted toward a small grove of trees at the bank of a small stream. "We're taking a little break," Animus remarked just as she stopped in the shade of the grove of trees, answering Merrick's unvoiced question. 

The Animarian general allowed Merrick to jump off the back of Fauna first before sliding off her himself. Freeing the reigns from his loose fingers, Animus gave his horse a good, strong stroke along her back before pushing her off and watching her head toward the stream to grab a drink. 

After walking towards one of the large trees to settle himself at its base, Animus shifted his look from his dear friend to his lover's son. He continued to stand in the same spot that he had when he dismounted from Fauna, staring blankly out into the sunny meadow they had just crossed. He was troubled, Animus knew, by what Opaline had said to him. It was only a matter of time before he spoke up and vocalized his concerns. 

"How can you stand it?" 

"Stand what?" 

Merrick's pure blue eyes met Animus' knowledgeable hazel eyes and held his gaze. "How can you stand that my mother is with another man?" He began calmly, and yet, a momentary anger bubbled up within him and he could not hold it back. "A man that cannot bring her any happiness!" 

"I know she loves me; I do understand that." It was quite easy to say, but Animus still struggled to convince himself of those very words. "She is doing what is demanded of her by her people; I cannot stand in the way of our society's demands." 

The calmness in the older man's tone did something to quell Merrick's own frustration. "Even if it is at the cost of her happiness?" His face was open, innocent, and fearful, honestly expressing his worries about his mother. 

Animus hesitated to respond to the question, not completely sure as to how to answer it. However, before he could begin to explain, Merrick beat him to the punch. 

"Mother said that not everything is in black and white," Merrick informed, recalling her powerful words of that morning yet again. "Does that have anything to do with you not stopping her?" 

The blond man was a bit surprised by the Baliton boy's words, having not expected Opaline to say something quite so blatant to him, but nodded his head to confirm the child's suspicions. "Come here." Animus motioned for him to come sit beside him against the tree trunk. 

Merrick joined him, taking a seat on one of the large roots that rose just slightly from beneath the grassy ground and watching his mentor attentively. 

"Your mother cares about many people: the Animarian people, King Parn, your father, me, and most of all, you." Animus reached out and patted Merrick's cheek in an affectionate manner. "She loves us all dearly, and because she cares for us so deeply, sometimes she has to give up certain things she may want for herself, to keep us happy and safe." 

"Like her happiness with you?" 

The soldier smiled at the simplistic phrase that summarized everything he and Opaline shared. "Yes, even her happiness with me." 

Taking a moment to think about it, Merrick then replied, "But you aren't happy, are you?" 

Slightly embarrassed by the boy's finding of the hole in his own mother's logic, Animus ducked his head, focusing his eyes on the ground. "No, I'm not happy." He shook his head. "But I am safe, and that does matter to your mother. Besides, you are safe-" 

A sudden ominous feeling passed over Animus and he stopped in mid-sentence, trying to figure out exactly where it had come from. Quickly, he looked all around, making sure there was no present danger. There was none, and just as soon as it came, the strange feeling was gone. 

"Animus?" 

"Hmm?" He returned his attention to Merrick, who appeared a bit confused by the man's unexpected shift in focus. 

"She's not hurting us on purpose, is she?" 

"No, she would never do that; she's trying to take care of us. She'd rather sacrifice her own life just to save ours..." 

***

Shayla hated being cooped up. 

So, there was no question that she was just nearly about to go insane near the end of the day, after having been assigned to read an entire volume on the origins of the magic of the Wildzord Clan by none other than the High Priest himself; his way of keeping her busy while the real activity went on outside. Even with the gradual shortening of the days with the onset of winter, the ancient writings dragged on lengthening her time spent in the library by quite a bit. 

"**Done!**" the royal Fawn exclaimed finally, slamming the old book shut and jumping up from the table where she had been sitting. 

Returning the book to its place on one of the many shelves against the walls of the room, Shayla quickly scurried from the library in hopes of catching sight of a few straggling pilgrims before darkness completely fell over all of Animaria. Her wanting to watch people flow into the courtyard was a little odd, but she loved it. She could always so clearly see upon their faces, in their postures, what brought them to the Sanctuary to seek out the Deerzord and ask for his blessing. Their devotion and belief in the Wildzords stirred her own love for them; to Shayla, it was a glorious feeling. 

The princess skipped down the staircase leading from the second level of the North Wing, and she had almost exited the building when she saw Misia suddenly appear in one of the doorways, looking utterly distraught. 

"Misia!" She ran over to her handmaiden, looking worriedly up into the older woman's haggard face. "What happened, Misia? Why are you here?" 

"Princess!" Misia acknowledged the girl's presence with a quick bow of her head, and then kneeled down to her height. "Have you seen the High Priest? Do you know where he is?" Her tone was definitely harried as she struggled to remain calm. 

Shayla's concern only grew at the woman's forceful questioning. "No, I have not seen him and I don't know where he is," she replied slowly, staring Misia directly in the eyes and trying to read what was going on; it was more than obvious that she wasn't going to tell the young girl. Yet, she tried to ask again. "Tell me what is going on, Misia!" 

The servant turned her gaze away from the girl and rose to stand up. "Nothing that you should worry about, Princess," she insisted firmly, a momentary calmness overwhelming her in the midst of her frenzied state. 

She was about to walk away from Shayla to go on her busy search for High Priest Vanault once more when he found her instead, descending the stairs that Shayla had just skipped down moments before. "Oh, High Priest!" Misia called to him, a sigh of relief and the respectful bow of the head following her words. "I have been looking for you!" 

As the woman moved off to meet the dark-haired priest at the bottom of the stairs, Shayla stood quietly in the doorway, listening in on the conversation even though she knew it to be wrong. Everyone chose to handle her with care simply because she was the princess of the kingdom, refusing to tell her the important things. She hated that, especially when it was obvious that there was something seriously wrong. 

"What do you need from me?" Vanault queried, looking slightly annoyed as he had obviously been headed somewhere with a book under one of his arms. 

"It's High Priestess Opaline!" 

"What about her?" 

"She fell ill this morning and has been unconscious ever since! Leona - her handmaiden -, Lady Ariene, and I have been watching over her-" 

"Why didn't you call me **earlier**?" 

Shayla was certain that Misia couldn't feel Vanault's anger and fear upon hearing of the news of the High Priestess' condition, but she could. The dark green of his magical aura grew even darker until it was almost black and expanded around him two-fold. She'd never felt that kind of raw magical energy; it was magnificent and frightening all at once. 

"The High Priestess does not like to burden herself onto others, so we decided to wait until she woke up for her discretion on the matter. However, she's now started thrashing in her sleep and screaming your name, High Priest. We didn't know-" 

"What of any Healers?" Genuine concern wore on the face of the Wildzord Clan's leader. "Did you not call even one?" 

"She despises Healers, High Priest; you know that." 

"So I do." Vanault momentarily hesitated, glancing down at the book under his arm, but then turned to see Shayla standing shyly in the doorway. "Shayla, come here please." 

Shayla nodded, walking towards her teacher at his request. 

"Take this," he handed her the book that he had been holding, "and take it back up to the library, please." 

The young, brown-haired girl shifted the heavy book in her arms, clutching it to her chest. "Of course, High Priest." 

Stepping aside to allow the Fawn to ascend the stairs once more, Vanault began walking out of the building. When he realized that Misia was still standing at the foot of the staircase, a bit bewildered by her retelling of the condition of Opaline, he turned around and motioned to her. "Come. You're going to take me to her." 

Having stopped about halfway up the flight of steps, Shayla watched below as Misia anxiously led Vanault out of the North Wing of the Sanctuary to the girl's ailing mentor within the walls of Castle of Tribute. No wonder Misia refused to tell her; she was now twice as worried as before and upset by the news that she had overheard. She wished she could see Opaline, in hopes that she could somehow make the High Priestess better. 

Shayla sighed deeply, hefting and adjusting the large, black book again in her arms as its heaviness was a bit uncomfortable. Her mind was so wound around the information that she had just learned that she failed to notice the nearly faded, gold writing on the outside cover. 

The Animarian Dark Ages. 

***

"You ready?" Animus turned to look back at Merrick in the darkness. 

The young soldier-in-training shrugged. "I'm ready, I guess," he replied, somewhat unenthusiastically. 

The blond man shook his head at boy and grinned privately to himself. "You could show a little more excitement, Merrick." 

"I could," he simply agreed as he jumped off Fauna's back and removed his bag of supplies from where they were hanging on her saddle. "A lot has just been bothering me as of late." 

Animus looked toward the grouping of trees before them that led into the dense Wolf Forest, named for the legend of the Wolfzord, and then back at the distracted Merrick. "I realize that, Merrick, but you've got to concentrate on what's before you. You'll need all your wits to get through the Hunt. Leave the worrying about your mother to me." 

"But-" 

"As your teacher, I insist upon it, Merrick." Animus easily cut off the young Baliton even before he could try to argue with him. "I remember when I went on my Hunt, I almost didn't find the cave. For days I wandered the forest and I was so frustrated, but only until I trusted in myself and concentrated was I able to find it. Then, there was the long walk home..." 

Merrick listened half-heartedly. He honestly wanted to pay attention to the importance of the general's words, but he just couldn't. His mother was in his every thought and was a part of his every breath. He could not bring himself to stop worrying. "I'll do my best," he quietly voiced, starting forward into the woods without even a goodbye. 

Animus was about to tease him - just as a last good luck message - but refrained when an epiphany struck him, stunning him speechless. 

There he was, Merrick Baliton, this young boy of only eight years and he was nothing like the boys his age; Animus remembered being terribly rambunctious at eight years. Even Van and Ryden - his best friends - weren't as sullen and thoughtful as he could be; a prime example being the conversation Animus had shared with him earlier that afternoon. As long as Animus had known him, Merrick always had been a bit aloof from everyone else - withdrawn. Only a select few were let into his world. The handful of people that he did let in, he protected and cared for fiercely. 

In many ways, he was a lot like his father. 

Of course, that was because he was struggling to live up to the expectations to which he was held up: the son of the beautiful and wise Opaline, and the handsome and clever Ephane. 

To have parents like them, Animus could only imagine. 

He loved Opaline passionately; she was a special woman, and a wonderful mother without a doubt. Ephane was like the older brother that he had never had; he was brilliant, and a magnificent teacher as well as friend. However, the entire population of Animaria worshiped them, and Merrick was the blood of his parents; from the moment he was borne from within Opaline he had been trying to live up to the expectations set for him by everyone around him. 

Things had only become worse with the death of Ephane as a void appeared, and the people had looked to the young Baliton of only two years to fill that void. The pressures of his position molded him to who he was, and of course, because of that he easily fell into the role his father had left behind: his mother's protector, head of his noble family, and most of all, a figure loved by the entire kingdom. For the population to watch Merrick grow up, day in and day out, their faith in the kingdom was finally restored. Their faith certainly wasn't restored when Animus ascended to general, because where Ephane had seen greatness, others only saw childishness in him. 

And so, finally totally understanding Merrick's story, Animus left him alone, simply watching the boy disappear into the thicket of trees, hopefully to find his way home again. 

***

"Has anyone seen the High Priest?" 

Frantically, Rai raced down the halls of the East Wing, searching every room for her superior and elder. She simply could **not** believe that Vanault would even dare to go missing on the first night of the Deerzord Festival. No matter how dense he could sometimes be as a member of the male gender, he wouldn't forget something as important as presiding over the festivities for the first night - at least he hadn't in the past six years. 

In a streak of green with hints of light brown, Rai flew down the stairs and out the door into the courtyard. Immediately, she grabbed the first Doe she came across by the shoulders and forcefully questioned one last time, "Have you seen the High Priest?" 

When the woman replied in the negative, the Sanctuary Priestess finally gave up with a heavy sigh signaling her defeat. Shuffling her way toward the North Wing, she tried to figure out what to do next when she spotted Shayla sitting on the edge of the outer corridor of the building; she didn't look any happier than Rai felt. Concerned - not only for the princess, but also for her fellow clansmember -, the petite redhead walked over to where the girl sat and kneeled down beside her to the best of her ability, as she was wearing her traditional solid green dress. 

"What are you thinking about?" 

Not even noticing when Rai sat next to her, Shayla was startled out of her intense thoughts - all about the news of the High Priestess, of course. "I was thinking about the High Priestess." 

"High Priestess Opaline?" The young woman was confused and her face showed it. "Why?" 

"I thought that someone would've already told you!" 

"Told me what, Shayla?" 

"High Priest Vanault isn't here because he left to go take care of High Priestess Opaline; she's ill and has been since early this afternoon." 

Rai could not believe her ears. "Are you sure, Shayla?" 

The brown-haired girl nodded her head quite confidently. "I heard the conversation that the High Priest had with my handmaiden, who was helping care for the High Priestess; I'm very sure." 

The Sanctuary Priestess didn't want to believe it, but she knew there was no reason for the Princess to lie. Also, if Opaline **was** sick, the news of it wouldn't be and couldn't be on everyone's lips. It was well known that she was not fond of Healers and if it was known that she was sick, people all over would be worrying for her health in a zealous nature. 

Pushing aside her newfound concern for her friend and elder, Rai reached out and placed a comforting hand upon Shayla's shoulder. "Don't you worry about the High Priestess, Shayla," she told in a soothing voice. "She'll be perfectly fine." 

"How do you know?" 

"I know because High Priestess Opaline hardly is ever sick; she tries to take very good care of herself." 

"The High Priestess has never been sick?" 

"Of course, she has, but it happens very rarely. The last time she was sick..." Rai slowly trailed off as she remembered exactly when her Opaline had last been sick. 

"When was she sick?" Shayla peered up into Rai's face, rather curious now that the older woman had stopped speaking. 

Brow furrowed in deep contemplation, the Sanctuary Priestess repeated her words slowly for Shayla. "The last time she was sick was when she was pregnant with Merrick." 

***

The moon had reached its pinnacle point in the dark night sky, or at least Vanault thought that it had from what he could see of it from the window whilst sitting at Opaline's bedside. 

A yawn seized the High Priest and he stifled it, placing the back of his hand against his mouth. It was late; of this, he was sure. Ariene and Leona had been tending to Opaline with him, but Ariene had left earlier in the night and finally, just moments before, Leona had taken her leave to get a little rest. He had been at his love's side since Misia had fetched him from the Sanctuary and had not left it even once. 

He had missed the first night of the Deerzord Festival completely; frantic with worry for Opaline, Vanault had let everything but her slip his mind. When he would eventually return to the Sanctuary, Rai would be terribly upset. However, he was sure she would understand once the situation had been explained to her. Opaline took priority - even over the Wildzords - when she was sick, which was almost never at all. 

Ever since they had been children, Opaline had always looked after him and everyone else; she was the caretaker of the Wildzord Clan, even from a very young age. Whenever anyone was hurt or ill, she was always there alongside the Virginal Does, helping in every way she could. Of course, her intervention was always at the hope that the Healers would never have to be called. 

Opaline didn't trust Healers. She respected them and the difficulty of their calling, as they continually were dealing with the gravely ill and dying, but she would never allow them to examine her. Few knew exactly why the High Priestess held them in that regard; Vanault was one of those few. 

It all stemmed back to the childhood she had spent with her family before their deaths. Her father had never blamed her directly for her mother's death during childbirth, but had blamed the Healers that could not save her. Then, when her father had died under the care of Healers, Opaline couldn't help but believe everything that she had been told about them. Compounded on top of her father's passing were the deaths she had witnessed over the years of her friends - including the tragic death of Queen Lyrissa, like Opaline's own mother, during childbirth. It seemed to her that Healers brought more death to people than the life that they were acclaimed to bestow onto their patients. 

He turned his gaze to rest upon Opaline once more and noted that she was sleeping peacefully, unlike during that afternoon when she was tossing and turning in a fitful slumber. He wondered what she was dreaming about in her forced sleep. Of him, perhaps? Now, whenever he slept, he was always sure to dream of her. Wonderful dreams. Dreams of his life with her- 

"Vanault..." 

As if to confirm his hopes, Opaline forcefully sighed the High Priest's name, shifting in her sleep ever so slightly. 

Vanault smirked privately at the voicing of his name. No matter what she said, he knew that Opaline loved him. There was no reason for her to have mentioned his name while in the midst of her dreams. She was dreaming of him. He occupied her every thought, even while unconscious. 

Satisfied with Opaline's supposed confession, Vanault settled back into his chair, allowing his dropping lids to fall over his eyes and sleep to overcome him for the time being. As he fell into his slumber, Opaline shifted yet again, feebly mumbling one name over and over again like a pleading call. 

"Animus..." 

***

Blinking her blurry brown eyes, Opaline awoke to the sight of two men standing together in the doorway of her room, appearing to be talking in hushed tones. Confused, she turned her face toward to the window and had to shield her eyes from the light - though dim - of the late morning rays from the sun. The last thing she could recall was talking with Ariene, being dizzy, and then...darkness. What had happened? How long had she been unconscious? 

With her vision clear now that the sleep had been driven from them, Opaline tried to slowly sit up in her bed. However, before she could even sit up halfway, the urge to retch swept over her. She felt the bile rush up her throat, pushing her back down onto the bed. Struggling to control her bodily functions, Opaline eventually was able to win and force down whatever food she had left from the prior day. Fatigued by her efforts, she moaned softly, falling deeper into the pillows that cushioned her head. 

Vanault, whom Opaline had seen talking in the doorway with none other than King Parn, immediately heard the brunette's small moan and jumped to her side. Kneeling beside her bed, he stroked her forehead tenderly with his hand, brushing away stray curls. "How are you feeling?" 

Surprised to hear and feel the genuine concern in Vanault's voice and touch, Opaline was reluctant to answer. "I'm fine," she lied easily. "What happened to me?" 

She could tell that Vanault didn't believe her; she imagined that she looked quite sickly to him laying still in her bed. "Yesterday morning you were talking with Lady Ariene and when she was just about to leave, you passed out and fell to the floor. You've been asleep since then." 

"You gave us all quite a scare, High Priestess." Though she didn't dare turn to see who was on the other side of her bed because she feared that the nausea would return, Opaline could sense King Parn's presence near her. "We were just about to call the Royal Healer-" 

"No!" Despite her exhaustion, the woman was able to get out a loud exclamation in protest of the idea. "No, I won't have any _Healer_ touching me!" 

"Of course, of course not," Vanault assured her, continuing to stroke her forehead. "We haven't called anyone; we know that you don't like Healers." 

"Are you sure you are well enough to not see a Healer?" King Parn questioned, not to enrage her, but to simply be cautious. He had lost his wife many years ago, and he did not want to lose his High Priestess also. 

"I've always been well enough to not see a Healer, King Parn." Determined to face her king when talking to him and prove her fitness, she turned around and laid on her other side so that she could look up at him. "Even when I was pregnant with Merrick in the heat of summer, I was never ill. Now a fainting spell is enough to call a Healer here? I think not." 

The older man nodded with a small grin as he gazed down on his subject; a small grin was all he could manage, because no matter what Opaline said, she could not see what she looked like to them: a frail and tired woman. However, her spirit never waned and he was grateful if only for that. "Stubborn as ever," he teased her, kneeling down beside the other side of her bed in a rather unkingly gesture and taking her hand into his own. "You always get your way, you know that, High Priestess?" 

Opaline smiled, a light momentarily sparking in her worn eyes. "That is what I am known for," she remarked. "So, if we won't bring the Healer here, then what is my punishment for my little fainting spell?" She knew she wouldn't be let off easily, but in a way, she welcomed the punishment as she truly felt that she needed the rest. 

Vanault's voice carried over her, as he was positioned behind her while she continued to face the king. "I think you should rest for the next week." 

"That's too long!" She instantly protested. "With the Deerzord Festival and General Animus being gone, my boys-" 

"I will watch over your trainees until General Animus returns from the Wolf Forest." 

She blinked at King Parn, unbelievingly. "You don't have to do that, my king-" 

"Nonsense!" He cut her off before she could somehow convince him out of it. "I was once a soldier of the Animarian Army, High Priestess, or have you forgotten? I know what needs to be done with the trainees; I was one." 

"You don't have to; someone else could do it or the children could be given a short vacation until the General returns..." 

He smirked at her and shook his head. "There is no one else to do it, as the High Priest is preoccupied with the Deerzord Festival and caring for you, and we both know that you would rather go on teaching ill than let the boys slack in their studies." 

Opaline chuckled gently; it still amazed her as tohow well the king knew her after the past ten years she had spent in his service. "So you are right," she conceded. "I would be honored if you would care for my boys while I am restrained to this bed." The end of her sentence held a teasing tone. 

"Restrained indeed!" Vanault joined in, also teasingly. "I will tie you to the bed if I must!" 

The High Priestess sighed, closing her eyes and simply feeling the presence of the two men surrounding her. "I don't think that will be necessary; for this once, I will concede to your wishes." 

"Very well," King Parn acknowledged, and she felt him rise from his kneeling position at her side. "We will leave you to your rest." 

As she sensed them both moving toward the door to leave, she called out once more. "Can you please tell me when General Animus returns? I would like to have a word with him." 

"Of course," Vanault replied, and if she had been facing him, she would've been able to see the sour face of jealousy flash across his features before he left with the king. 

***

After riding hard all day except to take quick breaks for Fauna to rest up, Animus arrived early that night just outside the walls surrounding Tribute. The foreboding feeling he'd had the day before still lingered with him and as he drew closer and closer to the city, it became only stronger. 

Trotting toward the open gates on his horse's back, he was greeted by his soldiers' reception. "Welcome back, General!" the two men standing on either side of the gate called out, their swords sheathed at their side. 

Animus nodded to them with a smile of thanks and made his way into the city. People were just beginning to wander the city that evening as torches slowly appeared, lining the streets and lighting the paths. It was the second night of the Deerzord Festival and since nothing ever took place on the night in terms of special ceremonies or parties put on by the Wildzord Clan, most of the visitors to the city used it for their own exploration purposes, sampling the best that Tribute had to offer. Vendors populated the streets like they did every night, but during the festival, there always seemed to be more than the normal amount, all hoping to profit in some shape or form from the pilgrims. Starving - he hadn't eaten since that morning - Animus was tempted to stop and grab something to eat, but he resisted the temptation as the pull of the feeling was growing stronger by the moment. 

Eventually, the façade of the castle appeared before him and he rode around to the back, going around the gardens and guiding Fauna into the stables, where he demounted her and helped her into her stall. "Thank you," he whispered to his animal friend, giving her a long and loving stroke before striding up into the armory to reenter his home that he had been away from for the past two days. 

Opening the door, Animus stepped into the castle hall and almost instantly, he felt like he was being crushed by the oppressive weight of the feeling that had only been a tingling sensation the night prior. Shocked by the abrupt and sudden onslaught of emotion, the young man had to brace himself against the wall in order to momentarily regroup himself. 

"Animus?" 

The general looked up to see his sister heading down the hall toward him, bathed in her usual yellow - a cloak over her dress. "Ariene!" he happily greeted, trying to cover the unsettling feeling overwhelming him with somewhat honest glee; he **was** delighted to see his sister. 

She drew closer to him and he noticed her fraught appearance and the near urgency in her steps as she approached. "Oh, Animus!" She jumped into his open arms and hugged him tightly. "It's terrible!" 

Allowing her to withdraw from him first, he searched Ariene's face; this nagging feeling, the overwhelming dread, was it warning him of what had Ariene so disturbed? "What's wrong? What happened?" 

"High Priestess Opaline has fallen ill!" 

Instantly, alarm flooded Animus and he didn't even bother hiding it from his sister. Opaline was sick. The woman he loved was ill. The same woman who despised Healers and refused to let them examine her. That **must've** been what had been bothering him so. 

Ariene's petrified voice brought him out of his momentary shock as she began to describe the exact details of what had happened. "I was talking with the High Priestess yesterday morning and I noticed that she didn't look completely well, but she dismissed it. However, when she got up to help me to the door as I was getting ready to leave, she suddenly fell to the floor unconscious! She only awoke this morning!" 

Animus gave his younger sister a questioning look. "What were you talking with the High Priestess about, Ariene?" He tried to keep the condescending, big brother tone out of his voice, but he couldn't. 

The Royal Court member ducked her head, ashamed. "I was asking her about your mystery lover," she answered with a murmur. 

By then, Animus had decided that standing in the middle of the hall wasn't a very appropriate place to be having a private conversation with his sister and was in the process of ushering her toward his room. He didn't react to her answer right away, but waited until they were comfortably inside his room and the door was shut behind him. 

"**What?!**" 

"I didn't mean-" 

"There are times when your curiosity is appropriate and then there are times when it isn't," he scolded, pacing the length of the floor and then turning. "When it comes to my personal life, it isn't appropriate." 

Ariene broke out of the rebuked little sister role and scolded him just as easily in her retort. "When it comes to the welfare of the family, it **is** appropriate. You were about to give the Aerlyn engagement necklace to some strange woman that Father didn't even know! I was looking out for the family!" 

"Look," he stopped his pacing in front of the blonde woman, "I'm not planning on giving the engagement necklace to anyone. It was a mistake. I made a mistake about-" 

"So now you're calling love a mistake?!" 

"In my case, it **was**!" 

The two of them were silent after Animus' declaration, musing on what he had just said. 

Ariene didn't exactly know what to make of his statement. Just a half-moon ago, he was head over heels in love with some mysterious woman, hoping to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her. Everything had suddenly changed. Animus had changed. Something inside of him had sobered and matured - not enough to steal his wondrously childish demeanor from him, but enough to make him see the great step he was taking with the idea of marriage. It wasn't as simple as saying, "I love you," to him. It was much more complex - more complex than even she could imagine. 

Animus could not fathom what he had just said. Why had he said it? He certainly knew that he didn't mean it: he loved Opaline more than his entire being. However, he knew that marrying her was out of the question. He finally understood everything she had been trying to say every time she whispered, "I love you," to him under her breath before entering a crowded room. There wasn't just the obvious, "I love you," but there was the hidden, "No matter what, even though we can never truly be together, I will always hold you in my heart." For one reason or another, he never actually registered that; he was sure that he had heard it, but comprehending it was another thing entirely. It wasn't until that moment - when arguing with his sister - that he recognized it. And it was painful and beautiful at the same time; she would love him eternally, but never would she wear his engagement necklace or family Wildzord. 

The young man plopped down onto his bed beside his sister, who had already taken a seat. "When he was still alive, Ephane once told me that love is like a wild filly." He began to talk, words just tumbling from his lips. "I don't remember when exactly he told me this, but I know he said love is like a wild filly. She's beautiful from afar; you want to possess her and make her yours. You can try and try, and maybe you'll get lucky one time and she'll take to you and approve of you. Then, you'll think she's yours. But not really, because she chose you: she can leave of her own accord at any time; her spirit is forever free. All you can do is hope that she'll reciprocate your feelings and never abandon you. 

He glanced at Ariene with his hazel eyes, noting her focused gaze on him as he spoke. 

"I didn't believe him for the longest time; I didn't want to believe him." He smiled; it was just like Ephane to use a horse to explain something so complicated like love. "However, like always, he had been right." 

Animus looked down awkwardly at his hands. 

"I really wish that he hadn't though." 

***

"Prince Thane!" 

The Animarian prince, who had been running out of the training regiment quarters after having stolen himself a quick breakfast of an apple, spun around to face his caller. "General!" he replied, giving the approaching man a quick nod of his head. 

"I didn't know you had arrived already!" Animus stated, his gaze wavering on the young trainees feasting on their breakfasts. "When did you come in last night?" 

"Late." He absently rubbed the already shiny apple against his dark blue tunic. "Nearly everyone was asleep by the time I returned; Mave arrived before me." 

"Did you hear about..." 

Thane nodded; Animus didn't have to finish his question, because there obviously was only one thing that he could be asking about. Word had spread like wildfire through the castle about Opaline falling sick. However, thanks to the Wildzords, the "news" had yet to spread to the city inhabitants. "When I got back, the only person not asleep was my father; he wanted to tell me about the High Priestess himself." 

Animus looked concerned at the mention of the king. "How is King Parn taking it?" 

"So long as she doesn't die, we're both fine," Thane joked, a slightly bitter lining in his voice. "Look, I was just going to go visit the High Priestess, so..." 

"Go, go," Animus encouraged with a wave of his hand. "Give her my best wishes and tell her I'll try to come see her later this morning." 

Thane nodded yet again, smiling as he pocketed his apple. "I will do that, General." 

With that smile nearly plastered onto his face, Thane sped from the quarters and out into the hall, where he allowed his face to take on a brooding expression. Despite what he had said to Animus, he was not faring well after hearing the news about his surrogate mother's illness; he thanked the Wildzords that no one had witnessed his breakdown after speaking with his father the night before. 

He couldn't lose Opaline. It was just that simple. 

Thane could remember the unexpected death of his mother like it was yesterday. He had been practicing his sword technique with Animus, who had dropped by to visit after his shift outside the main castle gate entrance, when Ephane had approached them both. Distinctly, he recalled watching Ephane's face as he struggled to tell them the news of Queen Lyrissa's death. As a young boy, he had been devastated. Her death had been so sudden and unexpected, and yet, at the same time, he had a sister - a living memory of his mother. 

Everything between the moment he learned of her passing and when he returned to his training a season later was a blur. All he could remember from her funeral pyre was the intense heat of the flames; Opaline had told him the story of when he had almost walked into the fire, trying to follow the queen into her next life. All he had to remind him of that accident was a nasty pink burn mark on the inside of his left arm. 

After her death, Opaline took on the role of Thane's mother. She concerned herself with every bit of his daily life - from what he had eaten for breakfast to what time he had gone to sleep; she was consistently nudging him on through life when he was unsure of what was next. He loved her and cared for her as much as he had his own mother; Merrick was as much his brother as Shayla was his sister. He couldn't bare to lose another mother. He wouldn't let it happen. 

Arriving at the door to her quarters, he knocked lightly and waited until Vanault opened it. "Prince Thane," he greeted with a bow of his head. "I was not expecting to see you this morning." 

The prince realized that no one had been expecting him, Animus, or Mave to return until later that night; they all had been a day early. "I realize that, but may I see the High Priestess before I go on my duty shift this morning?" 

"The High Priestess is still sleeping right-" 

"Who is at the door, High Priest?" 

He recognized the strong voice of his surrogate mother from behind Vanault, and instantly his mood was lifted. "It's me, High Priestess," he announced himself, bypassing her suitor entirely. "Prince Thane." 

"Thane!" He could hear her exclaim. "Let him in, Vanault." 

Almost begrudgingly, the older man let the royal soldier into the room and exited, allowing the two their privacy. 

Thane made a beeline for Opaline's bed, where she was propped up in a sitting position with the support of many pillows behind her back. Her hair was completely pulled back from her face, only highlighting the sullenness of her face and the pallor of her cheeks. However, he could clearly see that her brown eyes certainly hadn't lost their vibrancy as she motioned for him to take a seat on the bed next to her. 

"You're back so early! It's very good to see you again," she greeted quite excitedly. "Tell me, how was Ryden when you last left him?" 

"A little scared, but overall, excited by what lay ahead," the dark-haired prince replied politely, then easily turned the conversation back on her. "But how are **you** feeling?" 

"I'm perfectly fine," she insisted with a smile. "Just because I fainted two days ago, everyone has seen fit to treat me like a small, incapable child." 

"But aren't you having spells of nausea as well?" 

Opaline was surprised for a moment, but then that quickly faded. "Your father told you?" 

Thane nodded affirmatively, trying so hard to not betray the fear that was welling within him. 

"It's not **that** bad," she explained to him, patting his hand that lay on the bed. "Just sometimes I feel like vomiting; I'm **not** sick." 

He gave her a small smile in acknowledgement of her stubborn manner. "So you won't even go see a Healer for a second opinion?" he pleaded, knowing that he might not make a difference in her decision. 

The brunette regarded her prince for a long while, appearing to consider something. She eventually broke the forced silence, taking his hand into her own. "If I tell you something, can you keep it a secret from everyone else?" 

Thane's interest was piqued almost immediately. "Of course." 

"I have a friend from when I was still living at the orphanage. When we grew up, she received an apprenticeship with a Healer and became one of the best in the city herself. The last time I saw her was when I first found out I was pregnant with Merrick. I was thinking about going to see her again this afternoon." 

"Don't you despise Healers, though?" 

"I do," Opaline conceded to the truth easily. "However, that doesn't mean that I don't know how to ask for help when I need it; I may be the High Priestess, but I certainly do not understand the inner workings of my body all the time." 

"Why did you tell me?" Not that he wasn't glad to know that she wasn't about to let herself fall victim to her illness, but why she had chosen to tell him of all people hadn't quite connected in his head. 

"I need you to help me sneak out of the castle, Thane." 

***

She always had to go directly against him in every action she took, even when he was looking out for her own good! 

Vanault knocked the back of his head against the stone wall outside Opaline's door in frustration. She couldn't see past her disdain for him; her judgment was completely clouded. Really, the question was though, if he knew he couldn't stop her, why did consistently try? Any other man would have tossed her aside already. 

"Because my persistence will wear her down," he murmured under his breath, answering his own question. He crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and leaned fully against the wall, taking just a moment's rest. 

"Talking to yourself, High Priest?" 

Just as quickly as he took to his waiting position, Vanault was forced out of it by Animus' sudden intrusion. "I suppose you caught me, General Animus," he remarked, feigning joviality with the younger man. 

He knew that Animus had come to see Opaline just as the prince had, but unlike Thane, Vanault wasn't going to allow him through. If he let every person who wanted to see the High Priestess see her, there would be an endless stream of people outside her room. No, he would not let that happen. "How do you think your boys should fair on the Hunt this year?" he queried, appearing to ask an innocent question, but in reality, diverting the conversation. 

Animus could sense Vanault's hesitancy in his voice, but pursued the conversation out of courtesy. "The three of them should return within a week, at least that is my hope for them. They know the Wolfzord legend completely, and I would only think that knowing it so well would help them find their way to the cave. I only worry about the trek back to Tribute; **that** might prove to be a bit difficult for them." 

Vanault nodded his head, taking in the information. "High hopes for the young trainee who should take on the role protector for the princess, no doubt," he commented offhandedly, bitterness heavily underlining his words. 

"Of course." The dark blond paid little attention to the man's tone, his concerns focused on his protégée and how he would be fairing. "Merrick is so much like his father: resilient, resourceful, and brave. He would make a fitting protector for Princess Shayla when the time comes." 

"If his mother allows it," the older man responded, doing anything to discourage the general from ultimately picking Merrick. Why had he convinced Opaline to let Merrick pursue the job earlier?! 

"The High Priestess is a wise woman. She wouldn't dare deny her son something so beneficial both to him and Animaria." Animus spoke of her with reverence. "Speaking of the High Priestess, is she awake? May I speak with her?" 

Though very little, Vanault seized upon the eagerness in Animus' voice. "No," he cleanly stated, shooting down the general. 

"No, she is not awake, or no, I cannot speak with her?" Animus persisted, slightly irritated with the presumptuous manner of the High Priest. 

"The High Priestess is currently speaking with Prince Thane, so you cannot speak with her," Vanault clarified, crossing his arms over his chest yet again, this time in a more hostile and closed gesture. 

"Can I speak to her once Prince Thane leaves her presence?" By this time, it was clear to Animus that Vanault was trying to keep him from seeing Opaline, but it wasn't in his nature to take "no," for an answer so easily. 

"She'll be needing her rest afterward." 

Animus arched his eyebrow at the man who seemed to be quickly becoming Opaline's keeper by the moment. "She just woke up!" 

"She's ill, General," Vanault growled out, no longer hiding behind proper pretences. "Or have you forgotten that?" 

The young man bristled slightly at the High Priest's pointed words. As if he was the only man to care about Opaline when Animus loved her beyond all bounds? He had no right to fling around his petty and jealous jibes! "I **do** realize that the High Priestess is sick, but I also realize that I have a job to do and I need to consult with her to continue to do it productively!" 

Vanault narrowed his clouded blue eyes on the general and stared him down. He didn't care if he was the commander of the entire Animarian Army - at that point, he wouldn't have cared if Animus were King Parn himself - he was not going to see Opaline. Period. "I do think you should calm yourself down before you see the High Priestess," he stated quite calmly, firmly maintaining control over his emotions as they yearned for their freedom. "She doesn't need to become agitated." 

"I'm sure if Opaline knew of this, she wouldn't approve, Vanault." Dropping the honorifics, Animus literally spat the other man's name. 

"Can you afford to go running around the castle, bad-mouthing me, in the hopes that someone is able to communicate that to her?" Vanault hardly batted an eyelash at Animus's verbal threat, which to him, held no value whatsoever. 

"What do you mean?" There was a veiled threat in the Clan leader's question, one that Animus didn't quite understand. 

"You may be of noble blood and the leader of our armies, General, but you seem to forget the reputation that precedes you." A twisted grin formed upon the supposed holy man's lips and he backed away from Animus to lean once more against the wall. "You are Ephane's successor...and you have never succeeded. Nothing you have done has established you from outside of Ephane's shadow. Nothing you say will carry any weight against me, the High Priest of the Wildzord Clan! You will never be anything, but the boy who followed Ephane-" 

Before another word could fall from Vanault's lips, Animus balled his fist and let loose on him. His fist connecting solidly with the older man's jaw, causing Vanault to smack his head against the wall, hard. Shocked, but not unconscious, he slumped to the floor beside the door and held his lower lip, blood oozing slowly onto his fingers. Animus just glared down at him, his fist limp at his side, breathing heavily. "It was nice talking with you, High Priest," he growled lowly, walking away. 

It wasn't until Animus had turned the corner and the hall was deserted, except for the slightly injured Vanault, that Thane ran out the door to check on the noise that he and Opaline had heard. 

"What happened?" Thane questioned, thoroughly shocked, while helping Vanault up off the floor. 

Vanault stared down the empty hallway for a long moment. 

"Nothing." 

***

The door to Animus' quarters nearly fell away from its frame after he burst into the room, rage flowing liberally off him from his recent encounter with Vanault. His breathing was ragged and it felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest; he couldn't remember ever being as angry as he was at that very moment. 

Looking toward the door that joined his quarters to the training regiment's, he thought momentarily about returning to his boys and simply throwing himself into his duties. However, as he stood there in the silence and heard the throbbing of his blood in his ears, he thought better of the idea and sat down before his dresser. He needed to calm down first, before he attempted to do anything else. 

Animus stared at his own reflection in the mirror and shook his head unbelievingly. He could not believe that he had just punched the High Priest of the Wildzord Clan. It was more than that, of course. The situation was so ridiculous and the way the High Priest had been blowing it all out of proportion... Well, he was just as guilty as Vanault for blowing it out of proportion, but Vanault had more reason for it. He had every right to protect the woman he was courting - the woman he loved. Animus, on the other hand, had no right to challenge the holy man in the way that he had; it certainly wasn't proper. 

If it wasn't proper, then why had it felt so satisfying for him? 

Dropping his head into his hands, the young man sighed, knowing very well why it had felt good. Vanault had torn Opaline from him, when in reality Opaline had never truly been his. To everyone else, she was as free as a bird. She hadn't loved anyone since Ephane. His love - their love - simply could never be recognized whereas the forced courting of the High Priest and Priestess could. 

He hadn't forgotten that Vanault had forced himself onto Opaline. While she seemed so easily to have overlooked what Vanault had done - kissing her without her permission - it was never far from Animus' own mind. The picture of her being pawed by the older man was one that continually haunted his thoughts. The woman he loved in the arms of another - it was a revolting thought he struggled to not think of, always in vain. 

Then there was the issue of Vanault's implication and insult. That had bothered him most of all. The idea wasn't very farfetched, and the fact that it **could** be the truth certainly made him uncomfortable. His men respected him; he was sure of that because he saw them day in and day out, but it was a whole other matter with the nobles. They could make or break him in the eyes of the king. And since they didn't associate with him on a daily basis, they only made their assumptions from what they had heard and what they would see of him in ceremonies; neither were enough to come up with the correct impression of the young Aerlyn general. Lots of them had known him as a child, and they continued to carry those childhood preconceptions of him when they assessed him as an adult. It certainly wasn't fair, but Animus did realize that it happened. And if it happened, it was more than likely that Vanault was right: Animus' word, his reputation, meant nothing to the nobles against the word of the High Priest, when it should have carried much more weight. 

He honestly didn't care what anyone else thought, if his taboo relationship with Opaline was any indicator, but in the society he lived in, appearances and reputations were everything and so, they dictated his actions even when he thought they didn't. Opaline's choice to deny their love, in turn, affected him and how he chose to live his life. The choices never had been his to make; they always had been made for him. 

For what seemed like to be a long time to Animus, he just sat there before his dresser, head bowed into his hands, gazing down at the polished wood surface. 

Then, with a sudden movement, he yanked open the drawer beside him and removed a small, rectangular box from within its confines. He quickly pulled the top off the container and found his family's engagement necklace laying neatly on a soft piece of bright yellow cloth. With the gentlest of movements, Animus lifted the necklace into his hands, cradling it within his palms. 

"This is **my** choice," he murmured to himself, gazing at the beautiful piece of jewelry within his fingertips, "and I choose to give it to her." 

***

"Are you sure the High Priest will not be returning anytime soon?" Thane remarked, looking out the window at the overcast afternoon sky. 

"I'm very sure. There is much business awaiting him back at the Sanctuary," Opaline replied slowly, untying the back of the black nightgown she had been resting in. "We won't have to worry about Leona either; Vanault insisted on caring for me alone, without her help, even though I would have preferred that she stayed." She turned her head to look back at Thane, who continued to gaze out the window. "No peeking, Thane, or I will make sure your father hears of this!" 

"I'm not looking, Opaline!" he insisted, shielding his side view with his hand. If he could have stuck his head out the window, he would have, but the temperature outside had dropped significantly in the past two days and he didn't dare risk aggravating Opaline's unknown illness. 

Pulling the clothing off her shoulders, she allowed the dress to pool around her feet on the ground and snatched the green dress that Thane had brought her from where it lay on her dresser. Once she had slipped the new dress over her body, she collapsed onto her bed, not yet used to standing up for long periods of time after having lain in bed for two days straight. "You can look now," she whimpered, struggling to recover her strength. 

Immediately, Thane was at her side, hovering over her worriedly. "Maybe you shouldn't do this. You need-" 

"-to see a Healer," she finished for him, looking defiantly up into his dark eyes. "The more I am ill, the more I don't want to be, and the only way I can think to not be ill anymore is to know why I **am** ill. That involves seeing a Healer. Therefore, I am doing this." She paused, stroking his cheek in a motherly manner. "Can you hand me the cloak?" 

Silently, Thane nodded his head and grabbed the large green cloak draped over the chair tucked under her dresser. Giving her his arm, he supported Opaline as she stood up once more. Together, they managed to lift the thick cloak onto her tired frame, covering her from head to toe. 

Still holding onto her hand, the prince took a step away from her and examined her. "Can you even see from underneath that?" he chuckled, kneeling down to peer inside the rather large hood that concealed her head and face. 

"I can, you just can't see me, which is the entire point of it," the brunette replied, her voice slightly muffled by the hood. "It's so odd, being dressed like this. It's the one thing I've never had to wear-" 

"-because you've never been a Virginal Doe," Thane finished off her thought. "I have to say though, it **does** become you, High Priestess." 

The mocking tone was quite evident in his voice, and Opaline batted him with a long sleeve. "Do you know where we are going?" 

"You told me this morning." 

"Just making sure you remembered." 

"I remember." 

"Alright. Let's go." 

***

It certainly was a different experience to be walking through the city as a Virginal Doe instead of the High Priestess of all of Animaria, as Opaline quickly discovered. 

As Thane led her out the front doors of the castle, everyone stared at them, and they most certainly weren't staring at the prince. From the on-duty soldiers to the children running by, all stopped for a moment and looked intently at her. Of course, the guards had more tact, unlike the children who stared at her like she was the scariest thing they had ever seen and ran away quickly; more than likely, it was the first time that they had seen a virginal doe outside the Clan Sanctuary gates. When walking down the streets, crowds of people literally parted to allow her and Thane passage. 

It wasn't just the way people reacted to her that was different, but also the way she was able to react to what was around her. Appearing as a virginal doe to the outside world, she had to act like one. That meant bowing her head completely so that she was almost always staring at her feet. It also meant remaining completely silent. A virginal doe's senses belonged to the Deerzord and no one else; they could not be tainted. 

The chill of the afternoon slowly bit into her - the woolen cloak not able to stave off the cold - and Opaline had to try very hard not to collapse right there on the street. She clutched onto Thane's arm like a crutch, and not once did he complain of her tight grip. 

Just when she thought she would not be able to bear anymore walking, Thane whispered under his breath, "We're here." 

The High Priestess lifted her head ever so slightly to see the small, quaint doorway into the home of her friend and Healer. Though she was very much sought after by nobles, as she was quite the prized Healer, Bren had never forgotten her roots as an orphan and devoted much of her time to caring for the children at the orphanage. The only thing stopping Opaline from out and out hating Bren for being a Healer was her good and trusting heart. 

Taking leave of the prince's side, Opaline gathered her strength and walked up to the door, knocking on it lightly. The wooden door opened right away, revealing a beautiful petite woman. "Can I help you?" she questioned, peering carefully at the woman she believed to be a Doe. 

Without even saying a word, Opaline pushed passed the bronze-skinned Healer into the house and collapsed onto a nearby table. 

Quite startled, Bren threw the door shut and rushed over to Opaline's side. She helped her pull off the heavy cloak and once the hood had been pulled back, Bren gasped in surprise at the sight of the High Priestess and her childhood friend. "Opaline!" she cried and without a second thought, helped the taller woman to her bedroom to lie down. 

The two limped down the hall, turning into a small room furnished with the simplest of things: a bed, a chest of drawers, and a mirror. As soon as the bed was within distance, Opaline fell forward onto the bedspread and rolled onto her back, sighing heavily in relief. She shut her eyes, slowly trying to regain her strength. 

"Opaline?" Bren's sweet, melodious voice vaguely entered her hearing. 

She swallowed, retrieving her own voice from within herself. "I'm ill," Opaline replied bluntly, choosing not to waste her words. 

"I can see that." 

The sick woman reopened her brown eyes to find herself looking up into the hazel eyes - just slightly lighter than Animus' - of her friend. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Bren," she confided softly, finally betraying the fear that she kept buried deep down. "Two days ago, I fainted and ever since I've been feeling continually weak and nauseous." Opaline's voice was becoming frantic. "I almost thought I wouldn't be able to make it here without collapsing!" 

"You're here now," Bren soothed her, placing her hand on Opaline's forehead and smoothing back her hair that had escaped the confines of her ponytail. "Tell me, are you happy with Vanault?" she asked softly, gently smiling. 

Utterly confused by the raven-haired woman's change in subject, Opaline blinked and hesitated to answer. "Why do you ask?" 

"You are pregnant, High Priestess." 

"No!" Opaline cried, almost jumping out of the bed until her body rebelled painfully and forced her to lie back down. "**No!** How am I pregnant?!" 

Bren gave a light chuckle, tossing her long, dark braid over her shoulder. "Only you would know that," she teased, shying away from discussing the High Priestess' personal attachments. 

"No, I can't be pregnant, Bren," Opaline insisted, grabbing onto the healer's arm and placing it on her abdomen. "There can't be a child there." She shook her head slightly, more to herself than to Bren. "Just tell me that I'm ill because of stress and I will do anything that you prescribe to get better!" 

This time, the small woman laughed outright at her friend's antics. "Telling you that you are ill because of stress would be a lie, Opaline. You **are** pregnant. I remember when I first told you that you were pregnant with Merrick; I had the same sense from you." She smiled to herself, recalling the fateful day that Opaline had last appeared on her doorstep. "Your aura called to me in the same manner." 

"But I was never this ill when I fell pregnant with Merrick!" Opaline was not about to give in to believing she could possibly be pregnant. She couldn't be pregnant! Not right then! Animus was the only one- 

"You just said you've been stressed as of late, correct?" 

"Yes..." 

"Stress only aggravates your symptoms, Opaline. It's not good for you." 

"Of course it's not," Opaline scoffed, but allowed her tone to soften. "A baby..." 

"Yes." Bren smiled happily, watching as the pregnant woman slowly digested the new information. "The High Priest will be very excited-" 

At the mention of Vanault, Opaline was snapped out of her momentary daze. "You cannot tell anyone I came to visit," she instructed, her voice ever so serious. 

"I never do," Bren relayed honestly. "It is not my place to tell anyone what is happening to you." 

Rolling onto her side, Opaline carefully eased herself up from the bed into a sitting position. "I must go," she explained to Bren, who looked like she was about to make her lie down again. "I was only able to slip away from the castle for a short period of time." 

"Are you sure you'll be able to make it back there on your own?" Bren questioned, quite concerned. 

Aided by the healer, Opaline walked into the welcoming room of the house where her green cloak had been carelessly tossed aside on the round wooden table. "I'll be fine," she assured as together they put the cloak on over her dress. "There is someone waiting outside to escort me back to the castle." 

"As a Virginal Doe?" Bren arched her eyebrow incredulously at the other woman, as the High Priestess pulled the large dark hood over her head of brown curls. 

"As a Virginal Doe." 

Turning to stand in the doorway, Opaline remained still for a moment, gathering her strength, before opening the door and walking out of her friend's home. 

The cold was the first thing to hit her as she exited the warm and cozy building and rejoined Thane, who obediently waited on the street in front of the house. At once, he took her arm into his own, lending her all of his support, which she desperately needed. Before they began their walk back to the castle, he discreetly handed her a note. "I forgot to give this to you earlier," he whispered, loud enough to be heard through her hood but not enough to be heard by the people on the street. "General Animus gave it to me before I came to help you." 

She lifted her heavy arm and accepted the note, almost greedily. "I need to speak with you," she read the note softly to herself. "Meet me tonight in the stables, and make sure the High Priest knows nothing. General Animus." Puzzled as to why Animus had placed emphasis on Vanault, she turned to Thane, showed him the letter, and pointed at the latter part of the second sentence. 

"The bleeding lip the High Priest received was courtesy of the General, and not running into the wall," the prince quickly explained, and then began leading Opaline down the street, obviously deciding that they had been standing before the house for too long. 

Animus punching...Vanault? Vanault **must've** done something to provoke him, she reasoned. She wished for a split instant that she had been the one to punch Vanault, but then pushed the naughty thought away. There were more important things to consider than taking a little vengeance on her suitor. 

Subtly, she placed her hand against the side of her abdomen. 

"Oh my Wildzords, what do I do now?" 

***

Stupid. 

Sitting on a rock in a clearing in the Wolf Forest after two days of wandering around and finding nothing, Merrick was ready to call the Hunt stupid. He was even ready to scream it at the top of his lungs. 

"THIS IS STUPID!!" 

After screaming, the young boy felt a little better, having released some of his pent-up frustration. The Hunt was not supposed to frustrate him, it was supposed to enlighten him and give him a connection to his past! Everyone told him that, so on some level he believed it, but the wonderful and great experience had yet to strike him. 

Steeped in tradition rooted in the Wolfzord legend, the Hunt was a replication of the soldier's journey in that very legend - a quest to seek out the Wolfzord. A boy in his third year with the regiment - representing the three days the soldier was lost before finding the Wolfzord - would be left out in the middle of the woods during the Deerzord Festival. Basically, it was up to him and his training to survive alone, find the cave where the soldier stayed, and return back to Tribute. During the quest however, the Wolfzord had been said to reach out to the trainees and give them guidance to maintain their course as well - thus the enlightenment. 

At that point though, Merrick didn't care at all for any enlightenment or otherwise. As it had been since he had left the city, the one constant of his thoughts was his mother. He couldn't get her off his mind, though he certainly had tried for the sake of the Hunt. Nothing would get done - he would never complete the Hunt - if he couldn't focus on something other than her. 

And so, sitting alone in the middle of the darkening forest, Merrick struggled to turn his thoughts onto anything beside his mother. 

Mother. 

Animus. 

King Parn. 

Thane. 

Shayla. 

His thoughts lingered on the Animarian princess as he remembered her from when he had last seen her a few nights ago. An image of calmness and serenity in her Clan green, she had done everything in her power to try and placate his concerns over his mother that evening. For those few hours, she had succeeded as he was much more entranced by her. His childhood friend had been exquisitely beautiful that night and even Ryden and Van had noticed as they had heckled him later that night before going to sleep. 

He found it odd that they had spent their lives together and it hadn't been until the moment he had spotted her at the Sanctuary that he had taken notice of her uncanny beauty. She was quite noticeable even at eight, the lightness in her features, grace of her actions, and cheerfulness of her attitude setting her apart from the other girls her age. Merrick had heard many people claim that her levity stemmed from the tragedy of her birth; a child borne of sorrow supposedly knew value of happiness and clung to it much more tightly than a normal child. 

Life, without a mother... Merrick couldn't fathom it, and yet, Shayla had gone through eight years without one. His own mother had served as her surrogate mother since birth, but he couldn't imagine that being enough. She would never hear how soft her mother's voice was as she sung to her, never be able to fall into her comforting embrace after a terrifying dream, never bury her nose into her long curly hair and breathe in her soothingly familiar scent... 

The young trainee quickly swiped away the tears that had trickled out of his eyes with the back of his hand. It was too hard to even imagine... No, he could never live his life like that. His mother was his everything, as she had been since the day his father had passed away. 

"That didn't work," he muttered to himself, lifting his face to stare at the clouds above him that had turned ominously dark. "Maybe I should find somewhere to sleep..." 

Grabbing his pack of supplies and hoisting it onto his back once more, Merrick trudged back into the thickness of the forest, hardly noticing as small flecks of white began to descend from the sky. 

***

Anxiously, Animus paced the length of the stables over and over again. The dirt beneath his continuously moving feet were worn down, creating a neat little path down the center of the stalls lined up against the walls. Every few moments, his hand would slip into his tunic pocket, making sure for the hundredth time that the engagement necklace still resided there safely. 

He had been awaiting Opaline for quite some time as darkness had fallen early that night, clouds moving in to cover the moon and stars from view. As a favor to him, Mave was taking over the early dinner that night with the trainees and then planned to take them later that night into the city to see the annual reenactment of the Wolfzord legend by the city's actors' guild. The last he had checked, Vanault was still at the Wildzord Clan Sanctuary and was expected to remain there for the majority of the evening, tied up with the Virginal Does. 

Nothing was in the way of his meeting with Opaline that night. 

Nothing would stop him from presenting her with his family's engagement necklace. 

Just then, he heard the approach of footsteps outside and quickly stopped his nervous pacing, staring expectantly at the closed stable doors. Slowly, the large wooden doors were pulled open and Opaline appeared, dressed unusually in a dark blue cape that looked exactly like the soldier's cape he donned. As he looked closer, he noted the embroidered Wolfzord insignia on her left breast and knew right away that it, in fact, **was** a soldier's cape. 

Animus was about to question his lover's tardiness and as well as where she got her mysterious cape, but before he could, Thane also entered the stables, gently holding Opaline's arm. "Thane," the older man acknowledged, discarding of formalities as a secret rendezvous hardly required them. 

"Animus," the prince returned, while Animus approached both of them in front of the large doorway. 

Walking slightly past the two of them, Animus reached out to shut the stables' doors tightly, having taken notice that not only was Opaline wearing Thane's cape (which he had evidently forsaken for her), but she was also wearing her own green cloak beneath. Yet, she still trembled a little. "Are you still ill?" Animus asked, finally directing his first comment in days toward his beloved. He placed a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder. "If you are, we don't have to meet, Opaline. It's just that I had-" 

"I'm fine, Animus, thank you." She stopped him from completely dismissing her, while maintaining some semblance of light formality for the sake of Thane, who was still with them in the stables. "I have some topics I must discuss with you as well, and since Vanault is keeping me under lock and key, this is probably the only time we will have to speak." 

His hazel eyes darkened at the mention of the High Priest of the Wildzord Clan; his thoughts drifted back to the incident that had taken place that morning. "Yes, I have had first-hand experience with that." Unconsciously, he clenched his fist at his side. 

Opaline couldn't help but slightly smirk at his comment. "So I have heard." 

An awkward silence fell over the three of them after that, as both Animus and Opaline had much to say to one another, but couldn't possibly speak about everything in front of Thane. The prince easily picked up on their need for privacy and piped up, "I'll leave you two to what you need to discuss." 

"Don't you want your cloak back?" Opaline called out to Thane before he left. 

He shook his head, his dark, unruly bangs falling into his eyes. "I'll be fine," and with that, he was gone. 

Once the departing soldier was completely gone and the doors had shut behind him, keeping out the wind of the cold night, Opaline and Animus stood only a few steps from one another, simply staring. They each had things that they wanted to say, but neither had any idea how to start and so instead, they continued to stare at one another. 

Eventually, the standing and staring got to Opaline and she began to tire, her legs slowly giving out beneath her. Before she could even stumble, Animus was at her side, his arm around her waist, supporting her and allowing her to lean on him. Out of habit, she looped her arms around his neck to more comfortably lean against him, her body pressed against his. 

It had been so long since he had been able to touch her intimately, and holding her so close to him was causing Animus' yearning for her to grow more and more the longer he held her. He hadn't kissed her in so long... 

He wasn't able to kiss Opaline however, because she kissed him first. 

Leaning against him, she arched her head and shyly brushed her lips against his for a very short moment. A bit startled, he gazed down into her eyes and saw fear. Fear of his rejection after everything she had done to him, pushing him away time and time again. 

He wanted that fear gone; he could never let go, he could never stop loving her. And so he took the initiative and sought to banish her fears with another chaste kiss. 

Animus had intended to kiss her only once, sensing she was still quite weak, but his intentions were swept completely away with Opaline's passionate insistence. She easily turned his sweet kiss into a hungry one as she fiercely sought out his lips, looking to quench a thirst within her that she hadn't realized she'd had. He quickly followed her lead and fell victim to his own overwhelming longing for her that had been consistently growing since they had first touched that night. 

Opaline felt her strength returning to her as she and Animus continued to kiss, hanging onto one another like a lifeline. Simply being with him made her stronger. Everything else in the world around her seemed to fade away and all that was important was Animus and their love. Nothing mattered, but them. 

Animus felt Opaline's legs wind around his waist as he lifted her into his arms, Thane's cape that she had been wearing falling to the dirt and hay-covered ground; he couldn't imagine her needing it right then as it was anything but cold. Propping her back against the shut doors of the stables, he continued to ravage her with kisses, moving from her swollen lips to the exposed side of her neck. He worked his fingers on the tie of her emerald cloak, hoping to strip her of it as soon as possible, when he finally noticed the heavy weight of the engagement necklace in his tunic pocket. 

The concerns surrounding the necklace managed to cut a clear path through Animus's lust-ridden thinking, and he reluctantly pulled himself away from Opaline. She softly whimpered in protest at his stopping, and as hard as that was to hear for him, the determined Aerlyn stood his ground and lowered Opaline onto a nearby stool so that she wouldn't have to stand the entire time. "Is something wrong?" she questioned, her once pale cheeks completely flushed. 

He thought hard for a moment, trying to think of something to say to her before giving her the necklace, but he was at a loss for words. So, he just removed the necklace from his pocket, got down on both of his knees before her, and with the necklace cradled in his palms, he presented it to her. 

At first, when he had kneeled down in front of her, Opaline looked at Animus and giggled at his silliness. However, once she saw the beautiful gold necklace with the large dark blue sapphire set in the middle, the brunette immediately stopped giggling altogether, stunned. "Animus, this is, this is-" 

"Marry me, Opaline." 

The three simple words took all the breath out of Opaline. Her dizziness made a return visit, and she felt like she was almost going to faint again, but this time she put up a stronger resistance. She wasn't about to faint right when her lover was offering such a beautiful gift: his family's honor and his life. It was then that she decided that before either of them said anything else, she had to tell him what she had just learned earlier that afternoon. 

"I'm pregnant, Animus." 

Exactly as his words had done to Opaline, her words took the breath out of him. He almost thought that **he** might pass out! Opaline...carrying their child? It was frightening and wondrous at the same time. He would be a father to this beautiful woman's child? He couldn't believe it. The baby had to be a blessing from the Wildzords, acknowledging their love. It just had to be. 

Animus lifted his face from gazing dazedly at the ground to gazing happily up at Opaline. Tugging her head down to his with one hand while holding on to the engagement necklace with the other, he kissed her passionately - his reaction to her news. "Now, you **have** to marry me," he teased after pulling away, resting his forehead against hers. 

She nodded her head softly, a smile alighting her features and for a moment, she appeared as healthy as she'd been before falling ill. Her brown eyes glittered giddily. She took the necklace from his hand and held it up to her throat. "Care to put it on me?" 

"Of course." He stood up from the ground, brushing his knees of the dirt, and then walked around to stand behind the High Priestess. Taking the two connecting gold chains from her slim fingers, he locked them together, allowing the engagement necklace to dangle securely from Opaline's neck. "I love you," he whispered against the shell of her ear, dropping a loving kiss against her neck. One of his hands snaked around her waist to rest tenderly on her abdomen, where their child was beginning his or her life. 

She sighed, quite content, and leaned back into Animus. Her fingers reached behind her to climb up Animus' neck to find the soft curls of hair at the base of his nape and began to play with the hairs casually. "And I love you," she returned, ever so naturally. 

In that moment together, they sat in silence, feeling only each other. The consequences of their actions - their engagement, their child, their forbidden love - were the farthest things from their minds, but soon enough, they knew they would have to confront it all. They would survive one way or another. 

So long as they had each other, everything would be alright. 

***

Vanault finally emerged from the Gathering Hall after having spent the entire afternoon there with a small group of Virginal Does, discussing the first three days of the Deerzord Festival and their concerns for the week to come. 

Stepping out into the near deserted hallway, the High Priest privately wondered where everyone had gone. He followed the Virginal Does downstairs and headed toward the front gate of the Sanctuary, where all the Fawns appeared to be congregating. "High Priest! High Priest!" some of the children cried, very much glad to see the return of their teacher after his few days away from them. 

He couldn't help but smile widely at the giddy faces of his Fawns. "It is good to see you as well," he greeted, tempted to simply return to his brood, who always seemed to draw out the best in him. 

"Will you be staying with us and going to the see the Wolfzord legend with us tonight?" a random voice from within the crowd called out. 

He was almost about to answer in the affirmative, but then he remembered his ill beloved; he had already left her alone for almost half the day, and he didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone for a longer period of time. "Unfortunately, I cannot, Shayla," he conceded to the voice - that hadn't been difficult to identify - as well as the gaggle of children before him. "The High Priestess and I still have much business to discuss over the next few days." 

"High Priest Vanault!" 

Turning toward the hallway beneath the North Wing, Vanault saw Rai heading in his direction, hiking up the long billowy skirt of her green dress in order to run. He smiled genuinely, honestly moved by his Clan sister's effort to see him. It seemed as if just yesterday she had been only five years, shy as ever. Now, she was a beautiful and bright twenty-two years. "Good evening, Sanctuary Priestess Rai!" 

Rai nearly tackled him in a hug, quite glad to see her friend after so long; after living their entire lives together, two days apart was quite a long time for the young priestess. "It's so good of you to return," she mumbled in his ear, hugging the high priest tightly. 

"I cannot stay." 

"I know," said the young woman with a slight frown. "How is High Priestess Opaline?" 

Vanault took not of the slight change in her tone and acknowledged that, as they were talking in front of the children - some who were paying close attention, while others were just playing around. "She is well," he replied with a small lie. She was well, but she was still ill also. 

Deciding that it was indeed time for him to leave, Vanault said his parting goodbyes and proceeded to depart from the Wildzord Sanctuary. 

He walked quickly along the city streets, hoping to beat the crowds that would soon flood the streets whilst traveling to the Wolfzord legend reenactment at the city center. The torches that lined the streets had already been lit as night had descended early with the coming of dark and heavy-looking clouds that hovered overhead. Vanault half-wondered if it would be a blizzard or a torrential rainstorm that they would bring. He didn't want to be caught in either, as he wanted to return to Opaline as soon as possible. 

What had she done all day? Hopefully, she had caught up on some more sleep because even though she insisted she felt better, her face told him another story. Something dark weighed upon her, and he couldn't imagine what it was. If her illness didn't leave her soon, he would have to go to a Healer behind her back, even if she didn't like it. He loved her desperately, and he was concerned for her life. 

Going around the back of the castle, Vanault entered through the castle gardens and exited through the gates that opened up to the back of the courtyard. He then proceeded to cross the courtyard, heading toward the entrance beside the stables to easily ascend the stairs up to the second level where Opaline resided. However, just as he passed the stables, he heard a sound that stopped him in his tracks. 

He heard Opaline moan. 

The dark-haired priest was near positive that it was Opaline who had emitted that moan he had heard emanate from the stables. The first night of her illness, he had heard moan in her unconscious state dozens of times. That was her moan. Yet, he had never heard her moan quite as...passionately? 

Thoroughly confused by what he'd heard, Vanault sought to investigate further and quietly approached the stable doors, which were ever so slightly ajar - just enough to see inside. 

He spotted a man - his back to Vanault - kneeled before a giggling Opaline, who sat upon a stool and appeared to be quite flushed. The priest watched from his position in the cold outside as words tumbled from both of their lips. 

"Marry me, Opaline." 

"I'm pregnant, Animus." 

"Now, you **have** to marry me." 

As Vanault watched the Animarian general place his engagement necklace around the High Priestess' neck, his mind spun with the new revelations that he had witnessed. 

Opaline and...Animus? 

The thought had never struck him. As a matter of fact, he was willing to bet it hadn't struck anyone else either! Why would the great and beauteous Opaline chase after a child in armor?! It was ridiculous! And she was to bear his child? It all sounded like some terrible nightmare... 

Yet, it was the truth, as Vanault was watching it unfold before his eyes. 

Feelings welled within him. Anger, disgust, hatred, betrayal... He wanted to explode on them both and call them what they were: traitors! Traitors to their friends, their family, their king...the entire kingdom! When everyone knew what they really were behind all the deception, they would be nothing but- 

Vanault stopped his internal rage quickly, refusing to allow it to consume him. No, he wouldn't expose them then. He would bide his time, figure out the perfect moment, and then reveal them to everyone. They would never be able to fulfill their dreams; he wouldn't allow it. 

He glared at them a moment longer through his peephole between the two doors before jerking himself up from the ground and away from the sight. 

His humilation...his pain...he would revenge for what they had done to him, what they had _stolen_ from him. 

Happiness. 

***

They moved to the hay pile next to the horses' stalls after sitting and leaning against each other had gotten a little uncomfortable. 

He laid down on his back first and then slowly brought her down to lie beside him. He held her outstretched hands, gently tugging her toward him. She smiled at him the entire time - tired, but happy - as she took note of the heavy jewelry around her neck. 

The Aerlyn engagement necklace was quite a bit heavier than the last engagement necklace given to her by her deceased husband. She supposed it was the design: the Baliton necklace's golden mount was encrusted with small diamonds and sapphires, while the Aerlyn necklace just had one large, dark sapphire at its center. 

Cradling her head against Animus' chest, Opaline cuddled beside Animus' body for warmth, as it only seemed to be getting colder in the stables. How the horses could stand it, she didn't know. They probably never even really thought about it, and if that could work for them, then that was what she would do as well. Easily, she began to randomly speak the thoughts that entered her mind. 

"I was being selfish." 

Animus was slightly startled by her voice and was about to insist that she conserve her strength and not talk, but at the last moment, decided to simply be quiet and let her continue. 

"Before, the idea of wearing this necklace," she idly fingered the jewel around her throat, "was a fantasy I could not afford to let myself indulge in. I refused even the notion of it because it meant sacrificing everything I had known. 

"I loved being the High Priestess of Animaria. I loved living in the Castle of Tribute. I loved being a noble of the highest accord." She scoffed at what seemed to her materialistic-ness of everything she claimed to love. "For these meaningless things, I was willing to destroy my life and yours, by denying our love." 

"You still love your position, Opaline; to love what you have worked your entire life for, it is not selfish." 

"But it is! I nearly let all of my actions be dictated by my desires to retain my position!" She shook her head quite adamantly. "I wouldn't dare take the risk for our love; it was unknown territory, I didn't know what would happen." 

"And when you found out you were pregnant, you changed your mind then?" Since she had accepted his proposal, Animus couldn't help but have the slightest lingering doubt as to whether she wanted to marry him because she loved him or because she was carrying his child. 

"No, I did not choose to marry you out of fear or obligation to our child," she insisted lightly, craning her head so that she could stare into his intense hazel eyes looking down at her. "I made my decision while talking with your sister." 

"My sister?!" 

Opaline simply couldn't help herself and laughed merrily at his bewildered reaction. "Yes, your **sister**. I've heard many a people lament about how unnerving Lady Ariene's perceptiveness could be. Of course, I'd never experienced that first hand until I had a talk with her before my fainting spell." 

"She told me about that, and I chided her for intruding in my personal affairs." 

"For this once, I'm glad she interfered. When she told me about the necklace and how you were going to give it to some "mysterious" woman, I knew that you had been meaning to give it to me." Her voice slowly became softer as she grew somber. "It was then that I realized how foolish I had been, pushing you away and believing that our love was impossible. It was only impossible because I let myself be restrained by what was around me: rules, traditions, customs... They all were what I had grown up with, and I knew that if I just hid behind them, the greatest things in my life would simply pass me by. And so, I made my decision to seize my one opportunity and not let my fear destroy me." 

Animus was quieted by her declaration of devotion and love. She had jumped off a cliff for him and was hoping that he'd catch her, which, of course, he did. But still, it was a great leap into the unknown; there was a price to be paid with their love, and she would pay it, as would he. 

"And to think, I almost didn't give you the necklace!" 

The older woman wasn't at all offended by his remark, as the bitter, sarcastic tone that his voice took told her there was more to his story that just that one statement. So, just as he allowed her to ramble, she allowed him to continue on. 

"I had nearly convinced myself that our duty to Animaria was much greater than our duty to our love. After we left for the Hunt, Merrick was completely frustrated with whatever you had told him. He still couldn't wrap his mind around your courtship with Vanault. I had to continually reassure him that it was for the best, and that your motivations were purely for the sake of the betterment of the kingdom. Yet, he kept returning to one sticking point: in his eyes, you didn't love Vanault, only me. 

"I tried to explain that fact away many ways, but every time, his honest innocence found its way through my jaded deceits and he only got more and more frustrated. And though I hid it well, so did I, because I couldn't explain it. Even when talking with my sister, I went so far as to call love a mistake." 

The young general was no longer looking at his lover, but gazing at the wall, a haunted expression in his eyes. Opaline gently reached up and caressed his cheek with her fingers, reassuring him with her touch. "And what changed your mind?" 

"My fight with Vanault." 

Opaline nodded shortly. "Thane told me you were the one who gave him the bloody lip and not the wall." 

For a moment, Animus turned to look at her unbelievingly. "He said the wall injured him?" His words were tinged with humor. 

"He said he ran into the wall," she relayed with a light giggle. 

He shook his head at the ridiculous excuse, a grin upon his lips. "If a man like that commands more respect than me, then our society truly is a corrupt one." Opaline gave him a questioning look, and he elaborated his words. "He wasn't letting me see you this morning, and we fought over it. I said that I would tell you about his eccentric behavior, and he implied that I had less standing than he did and that no one would believe my story because I couldn't compare to Ephane." 

The brunette moved to prop her head up with her arm, glancing down on Animus' face. "That's absurd!" she insisted with a loud scoff. "As well as being the general of the entire Animarian Army, you are a **noble**! He does not have a single drop of noble blood in him! And you are just as great as Ephane!" She was silent for a moment and then murmured heatedly, "Vanault should not talk of things he knows nothing about..." 

Animus chuckled at the defensive manner that she took as soon as he relayed the jibes that the high priest had taken at his character. "Thank you." An arm around her waist, he pulled her against him and kissed her chastely. "But, if it hadn't been for Vanault's ridiculous behavior, I might have been content to leave you to his ministrations! So let us be thankful, at least, for his stupidity." 

She gasped at his words. She may not be in love with him, but she still cared a great deal for her childhood friend, no matter what he did. "Be a **little** kind. After all, he will be devastated when we announce our engagement." 

"I think he will be alright. He will be the High Priest of Animaria and that should console him." 

Both of them fell subdued at his seemingly light-hearted comment. Neither one of them had dared speak of the fallout of their decision until then. At best, they would be demoted from their positions in the army and the Wildzord Clan and be banished from the capital, but Merrick could come with them. At worst, they would be forced to leave the army and the Wildzord Clan, be banished from the kingdom, and Merrick would be taken away from Opaline. They both were hoping for the best. 

"Where do you want to go afterward?" Animus finally broke the silence. 

Opaline laid her head against Animus' chest and closed her eyes. She imagined a place beyond everything, beyond the rules and the ridicule, where they might be able to live out their lives happily. "Somewhere pretty, with wild horses, near the mountains, maybe, so we can see the snow on the peaks..." 

***

Vanault's lips parted and a low, strangled cry was emitted as he crumpled to the floor in Opaline's room. He had just entered - carefully shutting the door behind him - and hadn't been able to take even one step before the onslaught of the emotions he fought to keep at bay overwhelmed him. 

Sprawled on the floor in something that resembled a sitting position, his clouded blue eyes - filled with pain and anger - scanned the contents of the room, each object evoking a question in his mind. 

Had he ever stood with her at that window and watched the sun rise? 

Had he ever lit that torch to bring her light and warmth? 

Had he ever watched her as she dressed in front of that mirror? 

Had he ever kissed her in the doorway before bidding her goodnight? 

Had he ever made love to her in that bed all through the cold night? 

Vanault knew the answer to at least one of his questions and that alone angered him to the point where he wanted to rip the dark emerald rug from where it laid on the floor and toss it. However, before the urge became an action, he directed the energy toward a different outlet. 

With a great, shuddering sigh, the High Priest threw himself completely to the floor, rocking back and forth on his knees with his forehead pressed to the cold, uncomforting stone. "Why **me**?" he gasped, sobs wracking his body. "Why me, Deerzord? Why do You always forsake **me**?" 

He laid there for quite some time until he finally calmed down. Lifting himself off the ground, he sat down in the chair before Opaline's dresser. "All I wanted was to be loved by the woman who was my first love, Deerzord. All I wanted was never to be lonely again." He stared at the ceiling, somehow hoping that his words were falling on the ears of his Clan's wildzord. "Of all people, I **think** I was deserving. I served You faithfully, gave my life to You, in return for just one wish to be granted. To possess her and her love only for myself." 

Vanault grew silent and his attention was drawn to a piece of paper sticking out of the top drawer of Opaline's dresser. Curiosity piqued, he pulled open the drawer to see many folded notes of a variety of shapes and sizes. Heat flushing his cheeks as he speculated about what they were, Vanault grabbed the one that had been peeking from the drawer and read it to himself. _"I didn't have the heart to wake you, so I brought you back here to your room before anyone would suspect you missing. Only Thane, Mave, and Rai knew that you were gone last night; I'll talk to them. Animus."_

Furious once more, he delved through the notes much more vigorously, reading each one and only growing more and more upset. They were fairly banal notes to the casual eye, but the implications of secret rendezvous disgusted him thoroughly. He "didn't have the hear to wake" her, he could not "wait to have dinner with her," he would "meet her before breakfast to discuss" their plans... How could they be so deceptive?! 

"And even when I served You devotedly, You give me **this**!" He threw his hand to motion revoltingly to the drawer filled with notes. "She was supposed to be _mine_! She should have been _mine_! No one could love her more than I! But You gave her away to that child-man that masquerades as a general." He tossed the notes back into the drawer and shoved it shut. "I can never forgive her." He bowed his head, shaking it softly. "I can never forgive You. 

"Everything has been stolen from me. And now, I will steal everything from you." 

***

Merrick yawned widely as he awoke from his night slumber. Feeling the cold air hit him full-force, he had to fight the urge to not burrow underneath his blanket and fall back into the sleep where he was ever so warm. He sat up, his blanket falling around his waist, and yawned yet again as he stretched. 

The blurriness slowly leaving his eyes, the first thing he spotted was that the fire he had started the night before had gone out. Touching the cool ashes, he could tell that the fire had gone out long ago - perhaps even after he had gone to sleep - which was something he hadn't expected as there was still a lot of half-burned, dry wood sitting where the fire should have been. 

It was only then that he noticed that the light was dim within the cave; it should have been at least a little brighter with the sunlight streaming through the cave opening. He glanced toward the cave opening and all he could see was whiteness. 

Startled, Merrick jumped out of his makeshift bed and ran toward the opening. He peered outside into the forest and was met with another eyeful of white. The trees were white, the ground was white...he could hardly make anything out because of all the white! He simply couldn't believe it. 

It had snowed last night. 

He didn't dare step out into it, but he certainly could tell that the snow reached his knees, at least. How could this happen?! They had never been prepared for a winter climate! He had no equipment - no boots, no parka, nothing! And normally, relying on his own experience, it never snowed during the Deerzord Festival - always after! 

Before he could get more of a taste of the sudden cold snap, Merrick scampered back over to his makeshift campsite. Grabbing his backpack, he opened it and began to empty it out, laying out everything he had on the ground in front of him. 

No way was he going to let himself be stranded in that cave alone. Not when his mother needed him. 

***

"Opaline, wake up." 

"Hmm..." Pulling her arms out from underneath the covers, Opaline stretched them leisurely above her head with a small yawn. Tossing a quick glance to her window, she noticed the darkness and frowned. "The sun hasn't risen. There is still time to sleep." 

"The sun should be appearing soon; the last storm clouds are upon us." 

"Well then, I will just wait until it appears." Obviously still quite asleep, the woman turned over in her bed and pulled her blankets higher. "I'm quite tired from last night." 

For a moment, Vanault simply stared at the bed, visions of what the night before might've held for her parading through his imagination. "I imagine you are," he voiced under his breath. He then proceeded to peel the blankets off Opaline in an effort to get her to wake up once more. She whimpered softly, and it took all that he had in him to keep from giving into her want for more sleep; she still held a magic over him - one that he couldn't understand - and he hated it. "Opaline, you must wake up." 

"Why?" she murmured, eyes still pressed closed. 

Vanault hesitated to tell her the reason, but eventually relented, knowing it was the surest way to get her out of bed. "General Animus is waiting to speak with the both of us." 

"This early?!" Surprised, she immediately sat up and stepped out of the bed. She shivered involuntarily at the coldness of the floor against her bare feet, but that didn't stop her from proceeding to her chest of clothes sitting at the foot of her bed. Buried near the bottom of the chest, she found her uniform winter dress made of the richest and warmest velvet. 

Stepping in front of her long mirror, she held the dress to her body, examining herself before putting it on. It was only then that she noticed her suitor standing beside her dresser, watching her every movement. "Vanault? Would you mind...?" she trailed off, motioning to the dress in her hands and saying nothing more. 

With his back to her as she quickly stripped herself of her nightgown, the High Priest couldn't help but grit his teeth angrily at her hypocritical actions. She probably wouldn't have minded _Animus_ watching her undress, and yet, as her official suitor - by the power of the Animarian **king** - he could barely touch her without her becoming uncomfortable. 

"Done," she announced, and Vanault faced her once more, his breath taken away by her beauty. 

No matter what she wore, Opaline wore it well. The clingy velvet material hugged her every curve tightly. Around the high collar and the ends of the long sleeves, bunches of silver-dyed soft wool served as insulation from the cold, offsetting the pallor of her skin from the dark green of the dress. She had seen fit to pull her curly hair back with a green ribbon as well, exposing her bright brown eyes from behind her bangs, which were much more aware than they had been just moments before. 

A knock came to the door and Animus' voice followed. "May I enter?" 

"Please do, General," the High Priestess acknowledged, as Vanault had momentarily fallen quiet. 

The door opened and in came Animus, dressed in full-armor regalia from head to toe. The baggy nature of his flowing, dark blue clothing was restrained by his silver breastplate and gold belt, which held his scabbard where his sword laid in wait. At the center of the "v"-shaped breastplate was a golden medallion with the face of the Wolfzord engraved in it. Under one of his gloved arms, he held his helmet, and over his shoulders was his winter cloak, edges trimmed with the same soft silver wool that lined Opaline's dress. 

Opaline's nose crinkled in earnest confusion. They had planned on announcing their engagement in front of the Royal Court that very day, but why he was dressed as if he was ready to do battle was beyond her. "Why are you dressed so...formally?" 

"Haven't you noticed?" 

"Noticed what?" 

"He is speaking of what I was trying to tell you earlier," Vanault stepped in and explained, motioning toward the slowly lightening sky outside her window. "You normally rise with the sun, but today, there was no sun with which you could rise. Last night, a snowstorm passed over the kingdom; I even got stuck at the Sanctuary for the night." As he clarified the details of the situation, the High Priest also decided to toss in his excuse for having been gone the night prior. 

"A snowstorm?" Opaline repeated to herself questioningly. "The snow is only supposed to fall AFTER the festival!" 

Animus could only shrug at her insistence. "It seems as if my family's Wildzord has seen fit to fly on the cold winds earlier this season. However, this leaves us in a dangerous situation with the Hunt, no matter what weather the Eaglezord decides to bring us next. Those boys are stranded out there without any winter training or supplies; we must go and search for them." 

At the thought of her precious son - her only son - trapped without her help, Opaline's worries grew tenfold. At the same time, her unborn child took advantage of her momentary weakness. Dizziness swept over her with nausea soon following, and she fought with every fiber of her being to stay standing. 

"Opaline!" Both men were at her side instantly, flanking her and supporting her before she toppled over. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted, instinctively pushing herself off Vanault and leaning fully against Animus. "Just give me a moment." 

Vanault's eyes narrowed at her movement, and Animus also took notice and quickly led her over to a chair where she would be able to sit and regain her strength. 

"Perhaps I shouldn't have come," Animus spoke worriedly as Opaline eased back into the chair. 

"Perhaps, you shouldn't have," Vanault echoed, a challenging tone to his words. 

"No. I would've found out about the boys myself if you hadn't come." 

Animus shifted on his feet uneasily and pulled at his long black gloves. "That's not the only thing I came to speak to you both about." 

"You want our help?" Vanault asked incredulously, his gaze focusing on the young man on the other side of the room. 

"Yes," the general admitted, though certainly not without hesitation. "The snow outside is thick and high, as you know since you came from the Sanctuary." He directed his last comment toward Vanault. 

Vanault nodded his head. "I had to forcefully move through the snow with my magic; otherwise I would've never gotten here." 

"We need that; we need your magic," Animus blatantly stated. "I have fifteen of my best men ready to ride out with me to the Wolf Forest to start searching for those three boys, but with only our horses, it would take two days at least. However, if there were magic users blasting the snow out of our way, we could get there by sundown if we rode our horses hard enough." 

"I will go." 

Both men quickly turned to look at the sitting High Priestess. "I don't think so," Vanault declared, directly opposing her decision to go. "You couldn't possibly make it out there in your condition-" 

"SHUT UP, VANAULT!" Opaline finally screamed, deciding to let out her frustrations about everything that had been occurring in her life in one spew. "I'm so **sick** and **tired** of you keeping me locked away like a precious toy! I may be ill, but I believe I am capable of making my own decisions, and I've decided to go with the general and his search party and help them!" She paused, her heart racing and her chest heaving. "My son is out there and I have to bring him home!" 

"Fine then," he eventually replied, quite tight-lipped as he made a valiant effort to keep his hurt and anger at bay. "If you want to drain your energy, be my guest. But I won't let you go alone; I will come along and help as well." 

Animus maintained a quiet stance momentarily, looking back and forth between his lover and her suitor. For once, Vanault and him actually agreed on something: neither one of them wanted Opaline joining the search party; Animus had only wanted Vanault's help, which he was sure would have been enough. However, having just witnessed the futility in fighting Opaline on her decisions, Animus settled on letting her come with them - he simply would have to watch her carefully. 

"Meet my men and me down in the stables, and wear your warmest clothes." 

***

Merrick winced through his teeth as he pressed forward, the cold, wet snow seeping through his once dry pants. The thought came to him once more to simply turn around and return back to the cave, but he pushed that aside knowing that it was no longer a valid choice: he was too far from the cave to return now. 

The young boy stumbled onward, forcing his legs through the snow to move him just another step into the forest. Gripping the straps of his pack that was slung tightly over his shoulders, Merrick struggled to keep his balance so that at least his upper body would remain dry for the time being. The noonday sun beat down on him, staving off the chill in the air from the fresh snow. 

Eventually, he made it to a tree and collapsed against the rough bark of its trunk, obviously needing to rest. Pulling his pack so that it momentarily hung from the front, Merrick opened it and dug inside, finding a few roots and berries that he had saved up from the night before when he had gone scavenging. Famished, he gobbled them down, chewing every last piece to its fullest. 

Looking back at the deep path he left behind in the snow, he considered whether it had been wise to move from the spot from within the cave. Training told him that it was stupid, since they all had been taught to stay in one place when lost, but somehow, his instinct told him that searching for the others was the best plan. Besides, he imagined that Animus was already on his way to search for the three of them; there was no way he'd leave them alone in a situation they were unfit to handle. 

Merrick shifted against the tree and hissed as another jab from the icy snow shot up his leg. He wished Ryden were there with him. Ryden would know how to make fun of their situation; he was sure of that. And of course, Van would have to be there as well to make his sharp, snide side remarks. They would be laughing so much that they'd even forget that they were stranded in the middle of the forest. By the time they were rescued, time would have flown by so quickly that they would only be left to wonder where it had all gone. 

In reality though, the three of them were separated and Merrick was all alone, not a friend in sight. No mother, no mentor, no friends... No father. Of course, the last missing person was not a recent development. His father had been dead for years. 

No one had ever told Merrick how his father had died; whenever he asked about it, he was always given the general explanation that Ephane's death had been an accident. Of his father's death, he remembered little. There were the sad faces of all the ladies and the long solemn faces of the men. There were his mother's cries of anguish - cries he hoped never to hear again. There was the intense heat of the fire...but nothing more. 

Merrick wondered if Ephane had died like this, cold and alone. Had his mother been there when he was taking his last dying breaths, comforting and assuring him to the end? What sort of accident stole away the life of his ever so **great** father? Everything was so long ago, so distant; Merrick honestly could not imagine that this man - his father - had ever even lived. It seemed that Ephane Baliton would forever be a legend to be heard of, but never to be truly felt. 

Bracing himself against the trunk behind him, Merrick pushed off the tree and stood unaided in the snow, his pack slung over his back. One thing for certain was that Merrick would **not** become a simple story like his father; he would not leave his mother with only a story to remember him by. 

And with one foot forward at a time, he proceeded to make sure that he didn't. 

***

"Opaline, how are you feeling?" Animus gently prodded as his horse slowed with the others to approach a nearby, still-flowing stream. 

Opaline, who was riding with the general, much to Vanault's chagrin, nodded her head softly. "A little break would be good," she conceded in a whisper. Her tired arm, which she had been using to project her energy forward to forcefully move the snow aside out of the horses' path, was already hanging limply at her side. She left it up to Vanault to clear the surrounding area of snow so that they could dismount. 

"Here." Dropping the reigns he held in one of his hands, he took her arm into his free hand and gently massaged it, helping her relax the tense muscles. "Try not to overexert yourself; you are not the only one you are putting at risk anymore." 

The High Priestess smiled lightly and naturally rested against Animus' chest, forgetting where they were and whom they were with. "Already so protective," she murmured, a little giggle escaping from her. 

"Always protective of my family." 

Before she could reply, Mave and Vanault rode up alongside them and the two secret lovers were startled out of their comfortable positions. "How are you feeling, High Priestess?" Vanault queried, honest concern lining his voice. 

"I'm fine." 

The High Priest examined the easy way Opaline seemed to curl up in Animus' embrace, the young man's arm wrapped carefully around her waist as she sat in front of him, riding side saddle. Jealously simmered just below the surface. "What of your arm?" 

Opaline glanced over at her arm, still gingerly held in Animus' hand. "It was just a bit tired; the General offered to help me relieve the tension," she returned demurely, not willing to cause another fight to break out between the two men over something so little. 

Animus climbed off the back of Fauna, and Vanault eagerly followed suit, climbing off the back of Marron. The two of them together helped Opaline slide off the horse and steady herself on the newly cleared ground. "How long do you think it will be until we reach the forest, General?" Vanault asked, taking Opaline's hand into his own and guiding her to his side. 

"At the pace we're going, we should arrive at the Wolf Forest just before nightfall," Thane joined the conversation, answering the question for his commander. His eyes were on Opaline the entire time he spoke. "This is a walk in the park for you, isn't it, High Priestess?" 

The woman silently thanked the Wildzords for the prince's light words. The last thing she needed to hear was another, "How are you feeling?" She was fine, or at least, she would be once she took a little rest. "Very easy," she relayed back to him with a grateful smile. 

Thane nodded, acknowledging her words, but not believing them as she was only playing along with him. The strain that using her magic continuously caused was evident in the way she supported herself on Vanault, literally using him as a crutch. Simply seeing her in such a deteriorated state upset the young soldier. "General," he turned to face Animus, "may I speak to you privately?" 

"Of course," Animus granted, walking side by side with Thane as he pulled away from the two magic users. Once they were a safe distance from the rest of the search party, the blond man spoke to his dark-haired companion. "Is there something wrong, Thane?" 

"Why did you bring Opaline?" Gone was the prince's teasing tone of before; now he exposed just how upset he was. "You know she is ill, but you still let her come?!" 

"She's not ill, just weak." 

Thane was about to spout off a little more of his aggravation, until he noted Animus' calm exterior as he stared off into the bright white landscape. "How do you know that?" 

"She told me," he stated. "She went to see a healer yesterday, Thane. You took her, or have you forgotten?" 

"No, no. I haven't forgotten, but if you knew she was weak, then why-" 

"Why argue with her?" Animus shrugged, crossing his gloved arms across his chest. He realized how lame the reason sounded, but honestly, it was the major reason why she had been allowed to come. That, and he felt better with her close by than back at the castle, under the ever so watchful eye of Vanault. "She has served as your mother for the past eight years. You know how stubborn she is; she would rather waste all her energy arguing her point, than give in to the other side - especially where it concerns the well-bring of you, Princess Shayla, and Merrick. She loves each of you dearly." 

"I know." 

"Then just support her right now. That's all we can really do in the given situation. That, and find Merrick as soon as possible." 

The young man gave a curt nod, as if what he had been told was an order rather than a suggestion. It was strange, Thane thought to himself as he regarded Animus' profile for a moment. He had just spoken so genuinely, like he knew her heart just as well as her mind. Their friendship was very strong. Having been forged out of death, Thane supposed that it would have to be to survive. 

Leaving the general to take in more of the scenery or lack thereof, Thane returned to Pence, who drank with the other horses at the edge of the stream. 

***

"Be careful and don't stray far from this area." 

"General, I insist-" 

"High Priestess, **I** must insist that you stay here. It is for your own safety, and it will aid us in moving faster to find the missing boys. **Please, stay here.**" 

Opaline stared disdainfully at the back of Animus' head as he moved forward on his horse and mobilized his men to begin their search. Just moments before, they had arrived at the spot where Animus decided to set up camp and as some of the soldiers began to unload their supplies, he had started to distribute assignments to them all, dividing them into three search groups; he failed to include Opaline and Vanault in his appointments. Instead, he relegated the task of setting up their camp for the night to the two magic wielders, a job for which they were obviously overqualified. 

"Pouting like an inconsolable child doesn't befit you, Opaline," Vanault whispered, half in honesty and half out of spite. Coming up behind her, he placed a warm arm around her shoulders. 

"Shouldn't you be jumping for joy?" she spat, tired of behaving nicely with everyone around her. She was cold, exhausted, worried, and irritated. She was the High Priestess; once in awhile, she should be allowed to act a little selfish. 

"I **am** relieved," he returned, watching the fifteen men on their horses begin to slowly move away from them as they separated into three directions, traversing slowly through the icy snow that hadn't been plowed away. 

Opaline twisted herself from his embrace and stepped away from Vanault. "You can set up the camp on your own." 

He kept his blue eyes focused on her as she wandered over to the edge of the cliff on which they were camping out. She easily lifted the hem of her skirt up to her knees as she waded through the snow with her protective boots. "Only if you rest," he said, setting his requirement. "You spent almost the entire day projecting your magic **and** you are moody and acting childish. General Animus must've seen those things just as well as I, because for once, I can say that I agree with decision to leave us behind. You **need** rest, Opaline." 

She snapped around to glare darkly at him, the hood of her dark green woolen parka falling from her head. "I **need** to find my son, Vanault." 

The High Priest shook his head, deciding to let her be for the time being. She couldn't exactly go anywhere as the cliff drop was in front of her, and the only way off the precipice was walking past him. He moved toward the supplies left behind by the soldiers in efforts to actually start building a camp, monitoring Opaline from a distance by listening to the crunch of her boots against the frozen ground. 

Once he had managed to start a fire with some dry logs that the soldiers had brought along in their supplies, Vanault headed over to where Opaline stood at the edge of the cliff. The beauty of the sun falling on the horizon had entranced her, dousing the sky with its last brilliant hues of reds, oranges, and yellows. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her midsection and one might mistake her for being cold, but Vanault knew otherwise. He felt a sharp pang of jealousy splinter within him. 

Why hadn't he picked up on it earlier, he had no idea. Her pregnancy was so visible to him, so obvious. Her magical aura reeked of the change: the calm sea green quality of her aura was no more and it certainly wasn't a duller shade, which would show it reflecting illness. It was vivid, fresh, and new, reflecting the new life within her that she carried. Of course, there could be many reasons as to why her aura was brighter, but compounded with her illness over the past few days, no reason better explained it all than her being pregnant. 

Pregnant with that...**boy's** child. 

Disgusting. 

"You must be feeling well." 

Opaline narrowed her eyes at Vanault. "This is no time for jokes, Vanault. I'm ill and my son is lost in this snow _paradise_. In no way do I feel well." 

"Your aura is telling me otherwise, Opaline." He didn't know why he was pressing, but it felt right. It had only been one day, but he already was sick of hiding the secret he held. "You can't lie." 

Almost instantly, a startled and mortified look passed over her face. She couldn't see her aura, but she did remember what Bren has told her the day before: her aura had told the healer that she was pregnant before anything else. Could Vanault see this as well? She certainly wouldn't be surprised if he did, as his magic ability was at a level that nearly rivaled her own. "Lie about what?" she returned, still not sure as to what he was alluding to. 

He stepped closer to her and instinctively reached out to lift her chin up, so that he was staring down directly into her eyes, guilt swirling within them. Leaning forward so that their noses nearly touched, he whispered harshly, "You are pregnant." 

"That's preposterous!" she cried instantaneously, recoiling from his touch, his accusation. She was well aware that she was outright lying to Vanault's face, but she couldn't help it, as it had become a trained reflex over the years. 

Her ability to lie to him even when it was evident that they both knew the truth was a complete insult to him. The entire situation was an insult to Vanault! "Really? Preposterous?" he scoffed, an edge growing in his voice as his anger bubbled. "What's preposterous is the idea that you could ever love me, while you were dallying with your child lover in the stables!" 

Opaline's jaw dropped at his harsh, vulgar, yet truthful words. He had seen them the night before! That's the **only** way he could've known she was pregnant as well with the mention of the stables! "How DARE you speak to me that way!" she yelled at him, stepping forward and slapping him across the cheek with all her might. "How dare you spy on my personal-" 

"How dare **you** slap me...WHORE!" the dark-haired man was far past the state where he could restrain himself, and was simply letting his violent emotions run amuck. He seized her wrist and roughly pulled her close, grabbing a fist full of her hair with his free hand. "You think you are holy, High Priestess?" he sneered. "You think you are worthy of that title? Running around with boys, giving yourself freely, breaking every tradition and custom known to our society, and bearing his child?! You are nothing **near** holy!" 

Fear overwhelmed Opaline and she could feel nothing else. Held in the painful grip of the man she viewed as her friend, she finally truly saw him for what he was: a broken and disturbed man. She had thought that their friendship from childhood had mended those emotional wounds of abandonment and loss, but apparently even she could not heal those deep, deep cuts. "Vanault," she slowly whispered, pleading, "please, you are hurting me..." 

"I'm hurting you like you hurt me, Opaline," he explained simply, tugging hard on her hair and jerking her head backwards. "All I wanted was your love, and even when I gave you all of mine, it still wasn't enough. You couldn't see past your infatuation with that stupid general of yours." He laughed darkly. "Both of them! Tell me, Opaline, why always a general? Was I not good enough?" 

The high priestess didn't dare respond and struggled to look away from Vanault's piercing glare. Turning her own gaze away, out of the corner of her eye she noticed something moving on the snowy forest floor below and instantly released a yelp of, "HELP!" 

Vanault immediately jerked her head back viciously once more at her cry for help and took a moment to turn around to see if anyone was indeed there. There was. The last person he wanted to see. 

Merrick. 

"Mother?" the young boy called out, unsure of what he was seeing in the fading light of the day. He had spent the majority of the day wading through the snow doggedly and fatigue was also slowly wearing him down. All he could make out from his position at the edge of the clearing were two people above on the cliff, but that was all. "Mother?" 

Opaline recognized her son's tired, but resounding call and replied right back. "MER-rick!" Vanault muffled the second syllable of the boy's name by pressing his gloved hand over her mouth. 

Taking advantage of having her hands freed, Opaline quickly pushed Vanault away from herself, causing him to loose his balance and fall backwards into the snow. She quickly moved backwards away from Vanault, trying to get as far away as possible from him. Unfortunately, she forgot just how close to the precipice of the cliff she had been and within four steps, fell over the edge. 

Her scream resounded in both Vanault and Merrick's ears as she fell and landed in the snow of the lower clearing, face down, the dark green of her clothing a stark contrast to the clean whiteness of the snow. 

"MOTHER!" Merrick yelled; his voice strained with emotion. Motivated like nothing before, he pushed through the snow and was at his mother's side within moments. He threw aside the snow surrounding her and carefully turned her over, so that she was lying on her back, eyes shut. "Momma... Momma, wake up..." He coaxed her. 

Opaline could hear his voice calling her. From the first cries he emitted at his birth, she had never forgotten the unique tone of his voice. Gradually, her eyes fluttered open and looked up into the face of her young son above her. "Merrick..." She coughed slightly, a touch of blood drooling from the corner of her lips. "I found you." She smiled slightly, her brown eyes quickly losing their brightness. 

Watching his mother dying before him, Merrick could not hold any of his emotions back. Tears streamed down his cheeks, his gaze never wavering from her as he cradled her head in his lap. "Everything will be alright now," he assured her softly, brushing some stray hairs from her forehead. "Animus will come and he'll save you and-" 

Opaline's head suddenly darted to one side, causing him to break off in the middle of his speech. She gazed long and hard off into the snowy distance with her cloudy brown eyes, obviously seeing something that Merrick couldn't. After a moment, a sad smile graced her lips and she nodded ever so slightly. "The Wildzords are calling to me, Merrick," she whispered, still struggling to speak as she coughed again and more blood appeared on her lips. She didn't want to go, she didn't want to leave Merrick and Animus behind, but the Wildzords had guided her so far in her life and she believed in them fully. They wouldn't lead her astray. "They say it is my time to go..." 

"**NO!**" Merrick cried, fiercely shaking his head. "No! You can't leave me! You promised you would never leave me alone and I promised I would never leave you! No one can take you from our world of two!" 

"I will never leave you," she assured him, returning her dull eyes to lock with his emotional blue eyes. "I will be with you." She coughed yet again, this time rather violently and had to pause to recover her already weak voice. "I will be with you whenever the wind blows. I will protect you always. You are my son, Merrick. I love you." 

Opaline turned her head again to gaze at the same spot she had just moments before. They were there... Lionzord, Deerzord, Tigerzord, Eaglezord, Bisonzord, and beside Wolfzord, she saw her once lost love. Ephane. Oh, how she thought he had been gone to her forever! He beckoned to her with his hand, motioning to her to come to him. She reached out her hand toward him, trusting in him, and as she felt herself drawing closer to them, she felt their warmth, and then... 

Merrick watched, horrified, as his mother's hand fell at her side and the last signs of life in her eyes flickered away, her brown irises falling cold. "MOMMA!" he screamed vainly, one last time, trying to call her back from wherever she had gone with the Wildzords. When she didn't revive, the reality of her passing set in and he sobbed uncontrollably over her body, the boy's shoulders heaving with the weight of his loss. 

From above on his perch on the cliff, Vanault watched the scene unfold, completely and utterly devastated. Opaline was dead. His beautiful Opaline was dead. Her radiance would never grace his life ever again. And it was that brat's entire fault! Had he not shown up and drawn her attention, they could've resolved their argument...but no! He distracted her, causing her to plunge to her death. 

"YOU KILLED HER!" 

Merrick jerked his head up and through his tears saw High Priest Vanault staring down on him. "I didn't, I didn't kill her!" he stuttered, trying to regain control of his wavering voice. 

"You distracted her! She was trying to save you when she fell!" Vanault's lies and justifications came to him quite easily; fueling his own beliefs that he hadn't been responsible for the death of the woman he loved. "You killed her, Merrick! No one will ever forgive you!" 

"No! I didn't kill her! I didn't mean to kill her! It was an accident!" 

"Just like your father's death! Always an accident with you, Merrick!" 

The boy was standing up now, confusion painting his wet face. "What?" 

"Don't you think it was a bit strange how no one ever told you how Ephane died? No one told you, because he died saving **you**! You were just a baby at your family home when a brush fire started near the orchards where you were with your mother; Ephane saved the two of you, but he didn't survive! You killed your father and now, your mother as well!" 

"No..." The memories seemed to come quickly to him, the tall grass turning into tall, bright, fiery flames. The smell of his mother's dress as she pressed his face into it while she ran around in the thick smoke, searching for an escape. "No..." Crying as the smoke stung his eyes, and being lifted into his father's arms one last time. His mother screaming her husband's name as she ran out of the fire and he ran into it, in search of her. "NO!" 

"YES!" Vanault insisted. "You killed him, you killed her...KILLER!" 

"I..." Merrick couldn't find his words as the entirety of his life spun around in his mind. His mother and his father...dead, all due to him... He glanced at his mother's still body, lying in the snow. "So sorry..." he whispered, his voice cracking just before he ran off as fast as he could from the scene, into the dark forest evening. 

End of First Legend: The Wolves' Downfall 


End file.
